


Distant Thunder

by JennaLee



Series: Memories [2]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: A sequel toGlycerine.It's been months since the accident, but Arin's having a hard time letting go of what happened to Dan.
Relationships: Dan Avidan/Arin Hanson
Series: Memories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996789
Comments: 40
Kudos: 92





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nomoreflannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomoreflannel/gifts).



Arin navigated their new office, making his way to the room that was to be their new set. The movers had gone, and most of their staff that had been helping as well. Between the odd echo of his footfalls and the stacks of boxes lined up against the walls, the atmosphere was flat and lonely. 

But somewhere beyond the chaos and upheaval, there was a flicker of warmth. Scattered voices, a familiar tinkly laugh. Arin pushed open a door and found a familiar sight. Dan had been here since seven AM, but Arin still smiled like he hadn't seen him in years.

“What are you still doing in here?” Arin asked the room in general. Ross was there, and Brent and Jory and Allie, sitting crosslegged on the floor or leaning up against what little bare wall there was between the boxes.

“We got distracted,” Ross explained. “We were trying to find where we put David Cheeseman by smell alone.”

Brent said, “We were trying to sort some of the boxes while we still have the dollies from the truck rental.”

“You guys have all been working your asses off,” Arin said, looking at each of them in turn and finally settling on Dan. “You can call it a day, you know. You've done enough. I can sort it out from here.”

“Do you need us tomorrow?” Allie asked.

Arin could definitely use a hand. He hated moving. Not that anyone particularly enjoyed it. But he was exhausted - everyone was. Even after selling so much of their stuff, there was still an insane amount left. It still felt a little sad, too, to leave all the memories behind. Arin was rattled and tired of the upheaval and the feeling of being displaced, no matter how much they had needed the change.

“Tomorrow's Friday,” Arin said. “Take the day off. Have a three day weekend. We'll have everyone back in on Monday to bang most of it out.”

“I can help this weekend,” Dan offered. “I can stay late tonight too.”

Arin shook his head. “You need a break too. You did too much lifting today as it is.”

“I feel fine.”

“Doctor's orders, dude. You're still supposed to be taking it easy.”

“She said I shouldn't strain myself,” Dan countered. “She didn't say anything about moving a few boxes.”

Arin held his tongue until the rest of the staff had filed out, looking happy at the prospect of a long weekend. Dan could be stubborn as all fuck and Arin didn't want to argue with him in front of the others.

But when they were alone, Arin offered Dan a hand and pulled him to his feet.

“You really shouldn't be doing any more of the heavy stuff,” Arin told him, as gently as he could. “I know you want to help, but it's important to take care of yourself first.”

“I feel totally fine,” Dan insisted again. “I didn't even really lift anything. The others were all doing twice the work.”

That bothered him, Arin could tell. Dan didn't like not pulling his weight. 

“None of them nearly died three months ago, Dan.”

“It's just moving boxes. It's not like I'm out playing football without a helmet or something.”

“You look pale.”

Dan looked up, shading his eyes against the glare of the ceiling fixture. “I think it's just the lighting in here. It's harsh. You look pale, too.”

Arin frowned. He wasn't so sure about that. 

“If you stay late, I stay late,” Dan went on, stubborn as ever. Arin knew that jut of his jaw too well. “It's not fair otherwise.”

He wasn't going to let it go. Arin rubbed his forehead. “Fine, alright. Let's call it a day. When's the last time you ate? Do you want to go grab some sushi?”

“Sushi sounds good.” Dan looked wary. “And then we'll come in tomorrow?”

Arin sensed an opportunity to compromise without pandering. “I could use some help unpacking the main office stuff first,” he said carefully. Opening boxes was easier than lifting them. “It'll be easier to sort the rest once the stack by the front door is gone.”

Dan finally seemed to relax. “Sounds good,” he said, and kissed him. “Sorry for being kind of a dick about this.”

Arin had to roll his eyes good-naturedly. “You weren't. You wouldn't be Dan if you didn't give me some sass now and then.”

“I just don't want to be treated like I'm fragile. I know my limits. I know you're just looking out for me, but – it's a lot, you know?”

Arin nodded. It was hard not to be a little overprotective of the people he loved. “I get it. I'm sorry too. I'm just looking out for you, Big D.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

Dan smiled. “I know that too, you sap,” he said, and kissed him again. This time Arin slid his hands into Dan's wild hair and the kiss deepened, their faces tilting into each other. Dan's arms wrapped around Arin's waist.

It still felt like a dream, to be able to kiss and touch the man who had stolen his heart so many years ago. He never thought it could be this easy. He never even bothered to entertain the thought that this could be a reality instead of a wistful, half-shameful fantasy that crept up on him despite his best efforts to keep it hidden. And he still couldn't believe how close he'd come to losing Dan altogether.

Okay, maybe he was a little paranoid. The shock of Dan's accident had taken years off Arin's life. It wasn't going to stop haunting his mind anytime soon.

 _I don't think you'll ever know how much it scares me to think how I almost lost you,_ he wanted to say, but he didn't want to bring up the painful past if he could help it. 

Instead, when they broke apart Arin said, “Wanna come over? Stay the night. We'll drive in tomorrow together.”

Dan hooked a finger through Arin's belt loop. “Stay the night, hmm? What happened to taking it easy?”

“I'll do all the work.”

“All of it?” Dan tugged him closer, giving Arin that cocky little smirk that always drove Arin nuts. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

“Dan...” Arin swallowed as Dan's hands drifted down to his ass.

“Yeah?”

“I can't drive with a boner.”

Dan laughed. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Um,” Arin said, looking around. “I have some ideas, but the furniture is still all stacked up, and this floor is dirty.”

Dan giggled again and pulled himself away. He was disheveled and covered in dust, a little scrap of cardboard stuck in his hair and Sharpie smudges on his arms from where it had rubbed off the boxes, but Arin thought he looked gorgeous. His faint flush had brought some colour to his face. Maybe Arin had just been imagining his earlier pallor.

“Come on,” Arin said. “Let me take you home.”


	2. ii.

There weren't any available tables at their favourite fast sushi joint, but there were picnic tables outside, and the day was nice enough to sit out front and eat. Dan seemed to perk up in the sunshine, and by the time they'd demolished their sushi platter, Arin didn't really feel like going home yet. 

Rush hour was over and traffic was okay, as good as downtown LA ever got, so Arin drove semi-aimlessly until Dan opined that he wanted dessert. Somehow they ended up turning down Santa Monica Boulevard, and somehow that turned into an impromptu trip right down to the beach, where Arin knew the best place to get ice cream. 

It felt nice to just walk on the pier eating ice cream together. After all the insanity of moving and unpacking, sweating in the heat, trying to organize and plan everything, it was good to feel the sun on his face and listen to the cries of gulls. Being public figures, they didn't often act too much like a couple where so many people could see them. There were people on the beach, but not many, not in winter. They were too far away to be a bother.

Dan stopped along the boardwalk, watching a pair of pelicans bobbing in the waves, and Arin came up beside him. The crashing surf and the cries of gulls drowned out the noise of traffic and people. The wind was sharp and salty, whipping in off the waves and flinging sand across the wood of the boardwalk. Dan giggled suddenly and spluttered as his curls blew into his face like a scruffy dog that needed a haircut. He leaned on the rail and let Arin help him smooth it back.

The argan oil Dan used to smooth his hair came off on Arin's fingers. He opened his mouth to make a joke about it, but then he felt a raised bumpy line beneath the pads of his fingers on Dan's scalp, just above his ear. 

His humour faded.

“It doesn't hurt,” Dan said when he noticed Arin's silence. “I touch it when I wash my hair, and it doesn't hurt anymore.”

Arin pressed his lips together and looked out over the rippling water, thinking about a scalpel slicing in, how they would have had to cut through bone to relieve the pressure in Dan's brain - _bleeding and swelling_ , Brian had said, with his eyes averted, and he knew it was bad then. Any wrong move, any tiny slip-up from the surgeon's hands, any little thing could have gone wrong. It had been so close – and it was so unfair – Dan was a good driver, he'd done nothing wrong...

“Sometimes I think about it,” Arin said in a low voice. He hadn't meant to speak. He didn't know why he was bringing it up now. Something about the rhythm of the waves, like the heartbeat of the world, made him feel like he could say anything. Staring at the ocean always made Arin think about the fragility of life – the _smallness_ of it. The sun would rise and set and the waves would continue to roll in and out, relentless as time itself. 

Arin's stomach clenched up and he tasted bile, sharp in the back of his throat.

“Arin, are you alright?”

“I don't even remember the last thing I said to you,” Arin said out of nowhere.

“Before the accident?”

“Yeah.”

Dan looked at him with his head cocked to the side. He looked younger than he was in the reddish glow of the sunset. “Neither do I. Is that what's been bothering you, all this time?”

Arin shrugged and picked at his thumbnail. He honestly didn't know where that had come from. “I don't even know, dude.”

Dan put his hand over Arin's on the wooden rail of the boardwalk. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I know. I'm in a mood. I don't know why.”

“Is it about what happened at work?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.” Arin felt foolish. “I guess it doesn't matter.”

“If it's bothering you, we should talk about it.”

“I know.” Arin scuffed his toe against the wooden boards, nudging a pebble over the edge. “It's not that I don't want to talk about it. It's just, I don't want to make it a big thing. We're supposed to be having fun.” 

Dan watched the pebble fall. “Sometimes I think you bottle things up because you think it's not fair to put more stress on me.”

“It's not that. I know you can handle it. It just sneaks up on me sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Dan said softly. “Me too. When I least expect it.”

“You're good at hiding it.”

“Yeah. I mean, I've been talking to my therapist about it. It's helping. I can drive on the freeway now and not be nervous.”

Arin didn't want to pry and bring up painful memories, but he was curious. “Is the crash itself the biggest thing for you? Not the amnesia after?”

“That was freaky too,” Dan admitted. “But it was lucky in a way, that I didn't really know what was going on after I woke up. It was like watching a new TV show and being introduced to characters. It didn't feel like my life. I could tell my parents were scared and upset when they came to see me, and I felt bad, but not as bad as I would have felt if I knew them. Does that make sense?”

“I dunno, man.” That sounded terrifying to Arin. He tried imagining himself in Dan's situation – his mind and memory just blank – being told who he was, being shown what he looked like, introduced to strangers who told him that they were his loved ones. “You didn't even know what your name was. You didn't even know what your own face looked like.”

Dan shrugged. “I was more upset that people were sad for me and I didn't even know who they were or how to help.”

That was such a goddamn _Dan_ thing to say. Arin felt his throat tighten for an instant. After everything that happened, he was more concerned about others than he was for himself.

“It's just not fair,” Arin said, half to himself, as he looked out over the water. 

“Not fair how?”

“Just thinking out loud.” Surely everyone who had a loved one suffer felt the same thing. They wanted to know why. Why them? Why now? Why not someone else, anyone else? “It just sucks that you've had so many close calls. It's so goddamn stupid that someone else made a dumb mistake while driving and almost killed you. He walked away fine.”

“He was charged,” Dan said reasonably. “It was in the news.”

“I know. He lost his license and paid a fine. That's it.” Arin felt a fresh stab of anger, remembering. “I know it's a lousy thing to say, but why you? Why do you have to pay for his mistake?”

Dan just shrugged. “That's just life. Sometimes it's tough. Some people like to think that there's some sort of justice in the world, like they have control when they don't. It's easier to just believe that there's going to be some sort of like, cosmic reward or punishment, like karma. But it doesn't work like that.”

Arin nodded, mulling that over. Little bits of wisdom often came bubbling out of Dan when Arin least expected it. People liked to think of Dan as being simple – not in a mean way, but in a sunshine-pure puppydog kind of way. They were wrong.

“It doesn't normally bother me,” Arin said. “I'm not like, a morbid kind of guy. I don't usually dwell on shit. Like I get it, life isn't fair. But to just get fucking blindsided by it, out of nowhere...”

“Arin...”

“Sorry.” Arin wiped his face with his sleeve. 

“It's okay.” Dan put an arm on his shoulder and squeezed him in a half hug. “I'd feel the same way if it happened to you.”

Arin didn't want to cry. It was stupid. This was supposed to be fun. They were supposed to be relaxing after a long and stressful day. He knew Dan would get teary if he saw Arin cry, and Arin didn't want that for him.

“Are you gonna be alright, big cat?” Dan rubbed his arm. “You can always talk to me. Or, I don't know how much you liked your old therapist, but the one I found is super good...”

Arin took a deep breath. “Let's just forget about it,” he said, more briskly than he'd meant to. “I'm still hungry, you wanna go back to the pier? Get some chicken tendies?”

“Sure,” Dan said easily, his smile careful and maybe a little worried. “I'd love to. You sure you're okay?”

“I'll be fine.” Arin squeezed Dan's hand and brushed his thumb over Dan's knuckles while they were still here, far from prying eyes. 

The strange mood followed him back to the pier, but once the sound of the surf faded behind the sounds of a thousand conversations, Arin's chest opened and he felt looser, more assured. It was like he'd cast his morbid thoughts out into the ocean to be washed away with the incoming tide. They dodged tourists and weaved between lines and ended up in line at a food truck, where their appearance drew a couple of nervous fans who lit up when Dan engaged with them in his easy, outgoing way. Seagulls divebombed between busy feet to grab at a splattered box of French fries, and Dan grabbed Arin's arm and covered his shriek with a laugh as one shot past his face close enough for Arin to feel the rippling wake from its wings.

It was good. It was simple. It was everything it should be. A day of hard work, a stomach full of comfort food, a night at home to look forward to with one of the two loves of his life. 

Maybe it was just Arin's nature to make everything way more fucking complicated than it had to be. Maybe it was his nature to be overprotective. It was definitely something to work on.

But not right now. Right now Dan was smiling at him, his eyes soft and inviting, and right now Arin wanted to go home and not have to think for a little while.


	3. iii.

The sun set and the moon rose, and the witching hour settled in. The house was dark and quiet.

Arin was okay when he went to sleep, his muscles tired and sore but his head blissfully blank. Beside him lay Dan, his boxer briefs hastily pulled up over his hips and his hair even wilder than it had been at the beach. 

But somewhere in that empty void of sleep, something changed. Arin started to twist and turn. His feet were thrashing, the sheets tangled between his legs. His heart was in his throat and his chest felt tight and clenched with dread. His mind tried to pull away and escape. Stuck somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, the sense of dread sharpened like a knife. The object of his fear was growing fuzzy, slipping away like most of Arin's dreams, but the fear itself remained, stark and cold and terrible.

Beside him, Dan suddenly sat up with a wince.

“Arin,” he said urgently, laying a hand on his arm. “Arin, wake up!”

The sound didn't register, but the touch made Arin's eyes shoot open. He was gasping. He tried to sit up and felt a jolt of vertigo; the room was pitch black and he couldn't tell where he was.

“Danny,” he gasped out, suddenly recognizing the touch of his long fingers, the brush of his coarse hair on his bare shoulder. “What – what's wrong? What's going on?”

“Nothing's wrong, big cat.” His voice was soothing. He brushed Arin's sweaty hair away from his face. “You kicked me in your sleep and woke me up. Think you were having a nightmare.”

“I kicked you?” Arin struggled to orient himself. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. “Shit, babe, I'm sorry.”

Dan didn't dwell on it. He kept stroking Arin's hair. “I've never seen you have a nightmare like that.”

“Haven't had a nightmare since I was a kid,” Arin said. “At least not that I can remember. I don't even remember my dreams.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry.”

“God, no, don't be. Are you okay? You need anything?”

“No, it's cool. I'm alright.” Arin swallowed, willing his heart to slow down. He wrangled his feet free of the sheets and reached to his nightstand for his bottle of water. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom.”

The light in the bathroom was way too bright. It woke a dull throbbing in the back of his head. He turned it off and stumbled his way around in the dark, splashing cold water on his face and scrubbing it dry with the towel on the rack. Behind the mirror he had a bottle of Advil, and he dry-swallowed two carefully. He banged his hip against an open cupboard and cursed. He was still all keyed up, restless, anxious, and fuck if he couldn't figure out why.

Back in his bedroom, it was quiet. Dan's presence was calming. He was real – he was right here – he was okay. Everything was under control. He crawled under the blanket and let Dan angle him on his side, so that Dan could be the big spoon.

It should have been enough to lull him back to sleep. Should have. The ache in his head was spreading to his jaw and Arin had to consciously force himself to loosen the muscles there.

Dan's fingers began to trace circles on Arin's back. “What were you dreaming about? You wanna talk about it?”

Before Arin could answer, a light turned on from down the hall. They'd woken Suzy – or maybe she sensed something was wrong. He could hear the bed creak, her faint footsteps on the floor.

“I don't know,” Arin said to Dan, feeling kind of stupid now for making a scene. He tried to grasp the pieces of the nightmare, if only to better understand the gut-churning sick feeling it had left him with. “I don't remember.”

Dan looked at him. In the faint light, Arin could see his eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep but so soft and concerned. 

“It doesn't matter,” Arin went on, shaking his head. “It must have been – I don't know – maybe stress from moving.”

“From moving?” Dan repeated, dubiously.

Arin was saved from answering when Suzy appeared in the doorway, a shadowy little figure in a tank top and pajama shorts. “I thought I heard something,” she said when she saw the two of them awake. “Is everything okay?”

Arin didn't want to admit how fucked up he felt. But he couldn't hide it – not from Suzy. Even in the dark, she could tell something was wrong.

“Just had a bad dream, Suze,” Arin said, aiming for casual. “I'm okay.”

Even to his own ears, he sounded all wrong. 

The bed was big enough for three people. Suzy sometimes slept with them when Dan stayed over. Sometimes she took the guest room to give them privacy. Sometimes Dan did the same. But at three or four in the morning, any need to be discreet was gone. Suzy turned off the hall light and wriggled her way into bed next to Arin.

Arin was still embarrassed at having woken them both. But he couldn't deny that it felt good to be babied a little. He felt solid and safe with Dan on one side and Suzy on the other. Arin settled on his back and closed his eyes.

“What was the nightmare about, baby?” Suzy asked him softly, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember?”

It was coming back to him now, in bits and pieces, slippery when Arin tried to grab hold of them.

“I think...” he started hesitantly. “I think, maybe, something about Dan.”

“Am I that scary?” Dan joked, but it sounded forced and awkward.

“No. It's – look, it's okay, I'm fine.”

“It was about Dan's accident,” Suzy said in a low voice. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Arin muttered. Grasping one detail helped Arin navigate his way to the next, sorting and puzzling it out one piece at a time. “Dan and I were talking about it earlier today, so maybe it was just on my mind.”

“What happened?” Dan asked softly, propping himself up on one shoulder.

“I don't know. It doesn't matter.”

He thought he saw Dan and Suzy look at each other.

“You matter, Arin,” Suzy said quietly. “It might be better to try and talk about it.”

Arin's throat went tight. He said, jerkily, “I don't – I don't know about that. Maybe in the morning.”

“Okay,” she said after a pause. “That's okay too.”

“Whatever you want, big cat,” Dan added, squeezing Arin's hand. “We'll be here.”

“I know.” Arin didn't want to think. He had Dan on one side of him and Suzy on the other, and they were fine. Everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was under control. He didn't want to keep picking at the wounds. “I'm tired. I just want to go back to sleep, okay?”

They murmured in agreement, and everyone fell silent. Suzy kissed his shoulder and a lump came into Arin's throat. He worked his arm underneath her and held her a little more tightly. On the other side he kept Dan's hand lightly clasped in his own.

Dan fell asleep first. Arin heard his breathing change, turning to the slow even pattern of sleep. Suzy was next. She didn't snore like Arin, but sometimes she made an adorable little whistle through her nose, and the familiarity of it made Arin smile. 

Being cuddled between the two of them was pleasant enough for Arin to ignore the way his sweat was cooling on his skin. It really was too warm altogether. Dan was shirtless, and his skin was hot. But Arin could put up with it easily in exchange for the feeling of security.

This time when he fell asleep he did not dream.

**

The new office began looking a little more like home. Dan swept up the dust and other detritus from moving day while Arin did the heavy work, dragging some of the lighter furniture into place and sorting the boxes by room. The boxes seemed endless, and Arin really regretted getting lazy with the labeling, but it was okay with Dan's help. 

They took the weekend off, and on Monday, they had a whole team again. Arin had a desk again, and so did Dan, and Brent had his office and Ross had his own space too. They left the Power Hour set for now – someone had suggested making an episode of it – but after a full day, the place had lost the empty warehouse feel. 

It looked alive – it looked _lived_ in – it looked welcoming. 

Arin was in the middle of unpacking the hundredth box of equipment for their studio when Ross came wandering in and said, “Lunch?”

“Go ahead,” Arin said automatically. He sat back and huffed with frustration. It wasn't directed at Ross but at the tangle of wires in front of him. “If you're going out, do you want to grab takeout or something for the others?”

“Everyone's going out,” Ross explained, watching Arin work. “Well, everyone except Dan. That's why I came to get you. Wanna come with?”

“Why not Dan?”

“I haven't asked him. He's asleep.”

“Asleep?” Arin repeated blankly. “Where?”

“In your office.” Ross shrugged. “I didn't wanna wake him up.”

Arin frowned. How did he not notice Dan was missing? “Is he okay?”

“Why wouldn't he be okay?” Ross asked, looking at Arin carefully.

“I don't know.” Maybe that had been a dumb thing to say. Why was he so goddamn paranoid? It wasn't really unusual for Dan to take a nap at work. 

Ross leaned against the doorframe. “Well, he seemed fine this morning. We were helping put the new desk together in Brent's office.”

“Right.” Arin knew that. “Right, of course. You didn't let him move any of the heavy shit, did you?”

“He picked up the desk chair so we could put the rug underneath.” Ross looked absurdly guilty, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Was I supposed to stop him? He said it was fine.”

“It probably was,” Arin said hesitantly, “but – I don't know.”

“He probably knows. He talks with his doctor like every week, doesn't he?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Arin scratched his head. “I didn't even want him helping with the move. He insisted.”

“You're just in total fuckin' mama bear mode over him, dude.”

“I guess I am,” Arin conceded. “I mean, there's a lot of post-surgery complications that can happen. I'm worried about him.” 

“We've noticed.”

Arin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You've been hovering around him a lot,” Ross said. “More than usual, I mean, like more than you did before all this shit happened.”

“Is that weird?”

Ross held up his hands. “I'm not saying it's weird. I get it, you want to be overprotective.”

“I didn't think it was that obvious.”

Ross just gave him a look.

“Okay,” Arin said. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I should tone it down. He's just so damn stubborn sometimes. It worries me.”

“Well, he's tougher than he looks, isn't he? I mean, look what he's been through.”

“I know,” Arin said, running a hand through his hair. “I'm just being stupid.”

“Nah,” Ross said. “I know how he gets. He was all bent out of shape about having Allie and Hannah lift stuff onto the truck for him, but he didn't want to say anything.”

“You worry about him too?”

Ross shrugged. “Yes and no. I mean, I love the guy, so of course I worry. What happened to him was fucked up. But so far, he's been handling it really well.”

Arin nodded. “He's been seeing his therapist. She's been a big help.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you seeing somebody, too?”

“Oh,” Arin said. “Not since the accident, no.”

Ross raised an eyebrow.

“I haven't had time,” Arin told him. It felt like a lie, but Arin wasn't sure why. “I've kinda had my hands full.”

“Huh,” Ross said. “Well, it wouldn't hurt to make time. I'm surprised you haven't gone already.”

“I'll make an appointment at some point,” Arin assured him distractedly. “Right now I'm just focusing on Dan.”

Ross looked like he wanted to pursue that line of thought, but he held himself back. “Good,” he said. “Let me know how that goes. You want to stay here with Dan, then? I'll bring you something.”

Arin considered. “No, I'll come. Just let me go check on him. He should probably eat something too.”

Arin found Dan in the room that was to be his and Brian's office space. Dan was sprawled on his back on the couch, wearing a doofy hat and Arin's thick plaid jacket. His legs were too long to fit and were draped across the back of the couch. He was so cute that Arin felt bad for waking him up.

He gently shook Dan's shoulder. “Hey sleepyhead, you hungry?”

Dan's eyes cracked open blearily. His eyes found Arin's face. He blinked, and then he smiled and stretched like a cat. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, and Arin knew that Dan hadn't heard a word he said. 

“You can sleep all you want,” Arin said. “Did you already have lunch?”

“Lunch?”

“It's like two PM. Everyone's going out. I could go grab you something, and a coffee.”

Dan seemed to consider. “'M not too hungry.” 

“Something light?”

“Maybe just the coffee. I'm so tired.”

Arin knew he might be crossing over into annoying territory, but he couldn't help it. “Did you eat breakfast?” 

“I think so?” Dan's brow creased. “I think I had some juice, maybe. I woke up late.”

“You woke up late and you're still tired?”

Dan shrugged. The movement was almost lost in the layers of clothes. Arin could see that he was wearing another sweater under Arin's jacket. “Dunno,” he said. “I didn't sleep very well. Had a bit of a headache.”

Arin said sharply, “Headache?”

“A _normal_ headache, Ar'. Not like before. Not at all like after the accident.”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry.” 

“I just think it's my allergies. Sinus pressure.” Dan snarled out a yawn. “I took a Tylenol.”

“Allergies in the winter? I thought you were allergic to like, pollen and shit.”

Dan shrugged one shoulder. “Dunno. Maybe dust? Maybe something in the new building.”

“Since when are you allergic to dust?”

“Dunno,” Dan said again, vaguely. “Look, big cat, I'll be okay soon.”

The familiar nickname settled Arin's nerves. “Okay.”

“Can I sleep a little longer? I promise I'll stay late to help.”

That distracted Arin from his concern. “I don't care if you have a nap at work, jesus,” he said indignantly. “I'm not going to make you do extra work to make up for it.”

Dan gave him a little smile and closed his eyes again. “Okay,” he said sleepily. “I don't mind though. Really.”

“No way. No working late.”

“Yes, boss-man. Wake me up when you guys get back?”

“I will,” Arin promised. “And I'll bring you a coffee and a sandwich. I'll eat it if you don't.”

“Mmkay.” Dan shifted and wriggled himself down into the jacket until only the top half of his face was sticking out.

Arin bent to kiss his forehead, and Dan's eyes buttoned up like he was smiling.


	4. iv.

“You're moving shit around again?” Ross asked as he ambled into Arin's office with a cup of boba tea bigger than his head. “Thought you were done in here.”

Arin sat back on his heels. He felt faintly embarrassed, like he'd been caught doing something weird or wrong. “I've been on a cleaning spree, I guess.”

Ross looked at the shelf. “What are you doing? Reorganizing your games?”

Arin tensed. He could tell when Ross was trying to act casual. People thought that Ross had a solid pokerface, that he was a good liar, but most people didn't know him as well as Arin did. The old Ross would have teased him, or started pulling out games at random and slipping them back in wrong order until Arin grabbed his wrists and wrestled him away.

Arin would have preferred that. The forced casual act felt too much like pity.

“Yeah,” Arin finally answered. “It's been so long since I've bothered to do it.”

“Huh,” Ross said. “This is like the third time you've done it this week.”

“Is it?”

Ross wasn't stupid enough to fall for Arin playing dumb. He waited, his head tilted to the side.

“Okay,” Arin said after the silence started to burn. “I dunno, man, I like organizing shit. Is that a crime?”

“It's your stuff,” Ross said. “It's your office. But...shit, Arin, I'll just be direct with you. Sometimes I have to call out compulsive behaviour when I see it.”

Arin should have known that Ross would cut to the chase. “It's not that bad,” he said truthfully. “It just helps to do something productive when I'm anxious.”

“What is there to be anxious about?”

“Do you want a list? How long do you have?”

Ross scratched his head and didn't seem to appreciate the joke. “You get worse when Dan's not here.”

Direct again. Arin should have expected that. 

“He's fine,” Arin said. “He's over in Arcadia with Brian, working on NSP stuff.”

Ross sucked his cheek into his mouth and chewed on it, frowning. “I know he's fine. I texted him this morning.”

“Then why – ”

“Don't play dumb, Arin,” Ross said, quietly. 

Arin shook his head. “I'm not playing.”

The joke fell flat again. Maybe because it hadn't been a joke at all.

“He can take care of himself,” Ross pointed out, but gently. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“You don't know that.”

“Well, no,” Ross conceded. “I mean, none of us can predict the future, I guess. But that's nothing new. I don't know how to say this, and I'm sorry for the shitty example. But like, technically you could die from falling out of bed tomorrow, but you probably shouldn't start sleeping on the floor.”

Arin looked at him. “You're right.”

“I am?”

“That was a really shitty example.”

Ross barked out a laugh. “Alright, yeah, you got me. But the point stands, doesn't it?”

“Yeah. I guess it does. I never said I was being fucking logical, though.”

“It's natural to be worried about him,” Ross said. “It's human.”

“Yeah, well, I don't know if I want to be human anymore.”

Ross cracked a smile that didn't touch his eyes. “Not sure there's any other option, bud.”

“Fuck.” Arin stopped and rubbed at his face again, wondering when the tears had started to burn behind his eyes. “Fuck.”

Ross hugged him suddenly, waiting until Arin hugged back before he let go and drew back. “If you ever just want to talk, I'm here. I'm always here.”

Arin jerked his head in a nod. “I – I appreciate that, man. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ross patted him on the shoulder. “Want me to tell Brent you need a few more minutes?”

“For what?”

“The meeting,” Ross said, almost apologetically. 

“Oh. Oh, shit.” Arin blinked, remembering. He glanced at the clock on his laptop. “We're late. Fuck.”

“It's okay, dude,” Ross assured him. “We all know you're busy and doing about a thousand things at once. He said, if you need to jump in late, that's fine. Nobody's gonna hold it against you.”

“I'm okay,” Arin said. “I'm coming right now.”

He followed Ross out the door, feeling absurdly like a little kid being escorted out of the wrong classroom. It wasn't like him to forget things. But even if he didn't, it wasn't a big deal. It shouldn't be a big deal. Arin was the boss – he wasn't going to get in trouble. And yet he still felt a panicky buzz in his chest, like things were suddenly spiralling out of control – 

_It's fine,_ he lectured himself. _Barely five minutes late, that's nothing, you're okay._

It took a conscious effort to pull himself together and act like nothing was wrong. Which was funny, because there _was_ nothing wrong. 

Halfway through the meeting, Arin's phone buzzed in his pocket. Brent was speaking, and Arin didn't want to be rude, so he waited until he finished and everyone else started piping up to check. Something loosened in his chest when he saw who was texting him.

 _Running late,_ Dan sent, with a sad face. _Not sure I'll make it back in time to record._

Arin had kind of suspected that. The timing had already been tight. It was okay. He sat back, settling deeper into the couch and rolling his tight shoulders back comfortably. _No rush. We have until Friday anyway._ He waited a beat, tapping his foot against the floor. _What time are u done?_

_Seven or eight, idk. We're so busy._

_Don't wear yourself out,_ Arin typed, and then stared at the screen for a moment. He pressed the backspace until the message was gone. _Did you eat dinner?_ he started again, and deleted that too. He took two deep breaths. And then he sent, _Sounds good. Hope you're having fun._

Dan sent a smiley face and then a picture of himself in front of a soundboard, grinning ear to ear. _I'd rather be there with you._

Arin saved the picture to his phone and typed, _Soon! Let me know which day works._

_Whenever you want, babygirl._

“Arin's getting sexy texts,” Allie announced.

“What?” Arin's head snapped up. “Dan's just saying that the music stuff is going on for longer than he thought.”

Ross's face popped up from the couch, grinning like an imp. “Then why are you blushing?” 

“I'm not blushing.”

“You're a bad liar,” Allie opined cheerfully, and Ross nodded in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Arin grumbled good-naturedly. This felt more normal. This felt right. It took a second to register the odd feeling in his face as a smile. “Let's get back to work.”

 _Text me when you're home safe,_ Arin sent back, the way he always used to with Suzy so many years ago, when she used to take the city bus home from work in their early Palmdale days. He'd never felt the need to say it to Dan before, but it had become kind of a ritual lately. Arin couldn't sleep until he knew where Dan was. It had even started to creep back into his conversations with Suzy too, and the other people he loved. 

Dan sent a thumbs up, and Arin slipped his phone back into his pocket and gave his team his full attention.

**

Eight o'clock passed, and then eight thirty. Dan still hadn't texted him. And then it was nine, and surely Dan was done by now and on his way home. He liked to be in bed by eleven at the latest, and Brian kind of had to, having a kid and all, so there was no way they'd stay past maybe eight fifteen.

At five past nine, Arin started to feel sweat prickling at his hairline and soaking his armpits. At nine ten, he had to go to the bathroom and get a Band-Aid out of the medicine cabinet to wrap around his throbbing fingernail where he had picked the nail down to the skin. He went back downstairs, glancing at the microwave clock as he passed the kitchen, and somehow it was close to nine-thirty and Dan still hadn't said a word.

In the distance, a siren whined, and Arin's throat clenched. 

Arin wasn't stupid. Arin was generally a logical person. There was absolutely no reason to feel so anxious and he knew it. And yet -

With shaking hands, he pressed the phone button next to Dan's name.

Dan answered on the third ring, his greeting sounding warm but puzzled, and the shaking stopped.

“Hey,” Arin said, swallowing the sharp bile in the back of his throat. “Are you home yet?”

“Just got in. Traffic sucked.” Arin could hear rustling, like Dan was taking off his jacket. A metallic tinkle of keys being hung on the hook by the door. “What's up, Ar'?”

Arin, embarrassed, scrambled for a plausible reason to call. “I, uh, was just thinking – is Wednesday okay? To record?”

There was a beat of silence. 

“Sure,” Dan answered. “I meant it when I said whenever. I have nothing else going on.”

“Right, yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah – yeah, of course, I was just – ” Arin hesitated. “Just making sure you got home okay. I thought maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

“Never mind. I don't know. How was your day? How's the new track sound?”

Another silence. 

“Arin, hey,” Dan said softly. “If you're having a rough day, I can come sleep over.”

“No, it's fine. I'm fine. I mean, if you want to, I'd love it, but – you must be tired.”

“I could make a quick coffee.”

Arin picked at the Band-Aid on his finger until the edges were curled up. The throbbing intensified. “I don't want you on the road if you're tired.”

“It's really not a problem. I can...” He heard Dan exhale slowly. “Yeah, okay. Maybe you're right.”

“I didn't mean to, um...” Arin bit the inside of his cheek. Dan had been working hard on his mild fear of driving. The last thing he needed was more anxiety. “I'm just...”

“Worried, I know. I totally get it.” A pause. “You know, you're always welcome here. You and the Suze, if you want. I can make you breakfast in the morning.”

“You can cook breakfast?”

Dan laughed. “I can make a bowl of cereal. And I do know how to scramble eggs. Sometimes I can even use the toaster.”

Arin closed his eyes and let himself float on Dan's calm energy and the lingering sound of his laugh. “I believe you. But I don't want to like, intrude on your private time.”

“You're never an unwelcome intrusion, Arin.”

His voice was warm and low, so distinctly Dan, and yet it had the same flavour as Ross's earlier comments in his office. It hurt more coming from Dan. 

Arin exhaled roughly. “Thanks for the offer, but it's okay. I'm okay. Want me to let you go?”

“I can talk for a little while. If you don't mind listening to me empty the dishwasher before bed.”

Arin felt all of sixteen years old again, spending literal hours on the phone with Suzy, soaking up each others' voices with quiet exhilaration, both of them amazed at the feelings they woke in each other. It seemed a little too much to ask of a forty year old man. He didn't want to be clingy. “Well, I guess – I'll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, cheerfully. “I'm in at nine.”

“Okay. Yeah, of course, I knew that.” 

“We could meet up for breakfast? We could go to The Griddle.” 

Dan sounded hopeful. Like maybe he really meant it. Arin's heart thumped.

“Sure, yeah. I'd love that.”

“Me too, big cat. I missed you today.”

Warmth crept up Arin's neck and into his face. “I missed you too.”

“Goodnight, Ar'. Sleep well, okay?”

“Yeah,” Arin said, closing his eyes again. “You too.”


	5. v.

Steps forward, steps back. For a few days things would get better, and then suddenly it would get worse again. There was something like white noise in his head. It got louder and louder until he felt like his bones were crackling like TV static. 

Dan picked him up for breakfast, sunny and smiling, wearing the sherpa-lined leather jacket Arin had bought him for Christmas, and that made the noise subside. The Griddle's line-up was too long and they ended up somewhere Arin hadn't heard of, where the dated teal booths were cramped but private. Dan fed Arin bites of his parfait from his own fork in exchange for a portion of Arin's eggs, and Arin ordered a double side of bacon burnt crispy and didn't think about his diet at all. 

It was mostly when he was alone that things in his head got all loud and crashing again. Arin faced it down the way he faced everything else – by throwing himself into his work. If he didn't have anything to do, he started thinking about how fucking awesome it would be to have a drink or two, and he'd never had the urge to do so in his life. 

The craving scared him. A lot of things scared him lately. 

Like the list of results on WebMD for traumatic brain injury complications. Like when Dan was a few minutes late getting to work. Like the news reports of a vehicular collusion in Dan's neighbourhood. Like Dan's doctor talking about his compromised immune system and all the things he had to be careful of.

Like the pressing reminder that everything could be taken away from him in a single second. 

One night, when Suzy was out with a friend and Dan was already asleep, it got bad. Arin paced his house until he couldn't take it anymore. Then he went to the fridge and took the bottle of vodka – the only alcohol they had in the house, except for a can of Suzy's cider that Arin found too sweet – and stared at it for too long.

And then he poured it down the sink, his hands shaking, the sickly sharp smell making his eyes sting. It felt good to get rid of it. It felt like he was doing something, clinging on to his strength. And he had to do it, because he couldn't afford to lose control. Not when he had a job to do. Not when he had Suzy and Dan to protect. As long as he could hold on, everything would be okay. 

Eventually. In theory.

A sound from behind him made the empty bottle slip out of Arin's hand to crash noisily in the sink. He turned and saw Suzy standing in the doorway, looking at him with a face that was both sympathetic and worried. He hadn't heard her come in.

The surge of shame and embarrassment startled him into silence. It had been a long time since he'd been embarrassed around Suzy.

“Arin,” she said, with a soft note of inflection that made it less of a question and more of an invitation to speak.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just.” Arin shrugged one shoulder. “It might not be good for me to have that around.”

“It's been in the fridge for a year.”

He understood that question too, but this time he acted like he didn't. “I forget who gave it to us.”

“I meant that you didn't seem to have a problem staying away from it until now.” She hesitated. “You didn't even touch it after the accident.”

“I guess not. It just – it seemed like a good idea to throw it out, because lately – lately, it's been – ” God, he couldn't even say it. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“You don't need to explain yourself. If you're worried that you might make a bad decision, you did the right thing.” She opened the fridge for a bottle of water, glancing at the bottom shelf where they kept their canned and bottled beverages. “I can get rid of my cider too. I don't need it.”

Arin searched for judgment in her face and found none. Not that she had ever judged him, not even when he deserved it. Still, this was a discussion that had to be had. There was no way around it. She wouldn't force him, wouldn't push it, but at some point it would come up – and Arin had learned, from years and years of marriage, that these things were best tackled right at the start. 

“I've never really craved a drink before,” Arin said slowly. “Not until recently. In the past I've only ever had a drink because I was with you or with friends. And it was because I wanted to, not because I _needed_ to. I've never understood the need to drink.”

“But now it feels different.”

Arin nodded. “It scared the hell out of me. And it would be so easy to give in. I didn't want it to be that easy. Not because I don't trust myself, but because – I don't know.” To his own ears he sounded disjointed, rambling. “There's too much going on for me to even have to fight that battle. It's just better that the temptation doesn't exist at all.”

She seemed to understand, and her eyes softened when she looked at him. “I'm proud of you.”

“You are?” Arin was confused. He felt like a coward. “I didn't even do anything.”

She crossed the room and put her arms around him, and only then did Arin realize he was standing hunched and tense, like a cat about to bolt.

“You did, though,” she murmured into his shoulder. “You didn't give in.”

“It was close.”

“But you didn't. So I'm proud of you, and you can't stop me.”

Arin hugged her back, squeezing her more tightly than he meant to, wanting to feel her heartbeat against his, the most familiar sound in the world to him. Her hair was still damp from the shower and he pressed his cheek against it, and that made the noise fade too.

“It's really bad sometimes,” he said into her hair. “Not always. And not just tonight either. It makes me want to get the fuck out of my own head, you know?”

“I can understand that. I felt the same way, after everything with my mom.”

It had been some time since that had happened, and months since they'd talked about it. but Arin still felt an old familiar wave of grief. It wasn't nearly as bad as what Suzy had been through, of course, but Arin had loved her mother too. She loved _him._ She'd been their biggest cheerleader. She had some of Suzy's sense of humour and all of her warmth, and a kind of battle-hardened wisdom that only a parent of many seemed to have.

He felt Suzy's pain, dulled slightly now with time but always there. He hugged her a little tighter and said, voice thick, “Oh, Suze.”

She was quiet for a moment but regained her composure with practiced ease. “I knew it was coming for a long time, with her. It was hard. But we had a hell of a good time together and the memories will always be there. We knew it was coming – we all know it's coming, for all of us, whether we make it to thirty or fifty or a hundred. But if we spend our whole lives dreading it, we never get to _live._ I knew I couldn't let it get so bad for me. She wouldn't have wanted that.”

“I always knew you were strong,” Arin told her honestly, “but I never really knew how strong you were until I watched you go through that and come out on the other side.”

“Sometimes I wanted to give up. Sometimes I wished I could escape, too.”

Arin nodded even though she couldn't see. “But you didn't.”

“Neither have you.”

“Yeah.” That was something, at least, but Arin wasn't sure if he could fully take credit. “The weird thing is though, it was like – I wanted to drink so I wouldn't have to be scared, but I was even more scared at the thought of losing control. I didn't make the brave choice. I just chose the less terrifying option.”

She tilted her head. “Is that so weird?”

“Isn't it?”

“Not to me. All your life you've said that you didn't want to drink because not being in control scared the hell out of you.”

That struck a chord. Arin couldn't tell why. He thought about that for a while. Mochi slinked into the room and rubbed up against Suzy's ankles, and Arin, grateful for the distraction, knelt to pat him. 

Suzy looked at the empty bottle at the counter for a moment, her eyes distant, thoughtful. And then she said, “Do you know why it's gotten worse lately?”

“No,” Arin admitted, rubbing his chapped mouth with his sleeve. He rose to his feet, wincing a bit with the effort. “I was fucked up after everything that happened with Dan, but then it seemed like I was getting better. I don't know what happened. I don't know if our relationship distracted me, or what. But it was good. It's still good – being with him, I mean.” 

“Is it worse now than when he first woke up? Like when we knew he was going to be okay, but didn't know how long the amnesia would last?”

“It's...different,” Arin tried to explain, confusedly. “I don't know if anything could be worse than thinking about Dan suffering. But once I got over the shock, I was able to function. Dan needed me. I had to take care of him.”

“You didn't have time to process everything that happened,” she mused. “You were too busy helping Dan put his life back together.”

“I'm not complaining.” Arin wanted to make that clear. “It's not like I resent him for needing attention. I was glad he trusted me enough to let me help him.”

“I know. But now that he's doing better, everything's been catching up to you.”

“Maybe. Maybe, yeah. I don't know.” 

“How bad is it right now? Like on a scale of one to ten.”

Arin shrugged. “Five, maybe. Five and a half. I feel better than I did like half an hour ago.” Suzy had that effect on him, with her calm unyielding support. “But I'm still scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of everything. Like everything the doctors said – it's so much to keep track of. There are so many things that could go wrong. I can't even remember them all. And it can last for _years._ And all this on top of his existing problems and medications. It's just...” He shrugged a shoulder helplessly. 

“I know.” She reached for his hand, forcing Arin to stop digging at the raw loose skin of his cuticles. She led him out into the living room so they could curl up on the couch, Arin's head in her lap so she could run her fingers through his hair. 

It wasn't enough to make everything go away, but it did help. 

“Dan's fine,” she soothed him, petting his hair. “He talks with his doctor all the time. He knows what to watch out for.”

Ross had reminded him of that, too. “But it's my job to help.”

“He'll ask for help if he needs it. He's good about that,” Suzy said. “And he knows you're there for him. You've proven that many times over.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” Arin was growing tired. It took a lot of mental energy to face this, and it was maybe a little too much for him.

Suzy lapsed into silence. Arin caught her fingers and kissed them, wishing vaguely that Dan didn't have to be alone. Dan didn't get this luxury, someone who was just always _there_. There was no way around it and Arin tried his best to divide his time fairly, but it would always be a little lopsided. Suzy needed him too, after all.

With that line of thought in mind Arin said, “How've you been holding up?”

“Between everything that happened, and the big change in our lives – not bad at all,” she admitted. “I'm proud of Dan for all his self care efforts. I'm happy that he has you, and that he treats you well. Mostly, I'm just thinking about you. Wishing I could share some of your pain. Just to take it away for a little while and lighten the load.”

“You don't have to. You shouldn't have to.” Arin rolled to the side to look at her. “Are you that worried about me?”

“Not worried, exactly. I think you're too strong to crumble under pressure. I do think you're overworking yourself as usual.”

“Maybe a little.”

“We could go on a vacation,” she mused. “Me, you, and Dan. Back to Maui, maybe. Just get away from it all.”

“Can't.” Arin closed his eyes again. “Not yet, anyway. Dan's not supposed to fly.”

“We could plan ahead.”

“Yeah,” Arin said tiredly, “maybe. There's so much to do, though, and we're so behind from everything.”

“You could – ” She hesitated. “Maybe Dan can talk to his therapist about some couple's sessions.”

Arin had been expecting something along those lines, but that particular idea was novel. “With Dan specifically?”

“I think it's important that you let him know what's going on too. I think it's something you guys should work on together.”

“I dunno, Suze. Isn't this my problem? He's supposed to be focusing on himself. I'm supposed to be taking care of _him._ He doesn't need me as much, but...”

“You're supposed to be taking care of each other,” she corrected. “That's how relationships work. That's how you and I work.”

“Isn't that kind of selfish?”

“Selfish how?”

“I mean, he was the one who had to go through everything. He's the one that suffered. I just had to watch. Not nearly the same thing.”

“You did more than just watch, Arin. You stayed with him for days. You slept at his side. You helped him pick up all the pieces.”

“That's just my job.”

“No,” she said softly, “that's because you love him. This is who you are. You always want to fix everything, protect everyone, and it takes a lot of strength and mental energy. You don't leave any for yourself.” 

“I _have_ to protect him. Just like I have to protect you. And I can't. No matter what I do, I can't. I want to and I know I can't and I – I'm doing my best, and it's not – ” 

His voice cracked and broke. 

“You do enough.” Her fingers brushed his arm. “You're enough.”

Arin wished he could believe that. He wanted to. Wanted it more than anything.

She went on. “Everyone needs a break now and then. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to let other people take care of you, too.”

“I know. Ross has been – he's been there for me, too. And Dan, of course. And you.”

“Good,” she said, as her fingers carded through his hair. “You'll talk to Dan, then? About that idea?”

“I will,” Arin promised. “I'll bring it up when I have time. I have that meeting tomorrow, but I'll do it soon.”

“Good,” she said again, and he could hear her smile of relief. “Let me know how it goes, okay?”

Arin wondered what he'd done to deserve someone like Suzy. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“It's been a couple of hours.”

He smiled up at her. Her hand cupped his chin, lifting his face so she could bend down to kiss him.

“Do you want to keep talking?” she asked him, her breath warm on his lips. She smelled like cinnamon and coffee. “Or do you want to come upstairs with me and let me take care of you?”

It was a different sort of escape. A sweeter and more welcome one. And far more tempting.

“Yes,” he breathed back. “Please.”


	6. vi.

Someone knocked on Arin's office door.

“Come in,” Arin called automatically. He didn't turn around to look. He expected it to be Brent, asking about the meeting Arin had just come from, so he was surprised to hear a female voice answer.

“Hi,” Allie said brightly. “I'm looking for Dan. I thought he might be in here with you.”

“I just got back like, half an hour ago. I was at that meeting.” Arin spun his chair around. “He's not with Brian?”

“Not that I saw.” She fished in her pocket. “Well, can I just leave these with you?”

Arin looked at what she was holding out. “Cough drops?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know he probably has plenty at home, but I figured this might help him through the day with his cold. It'll make his throat feel a little better.”

“Who told you that he had a cold?”

She looked surprised at the question. “He did.”

“Oh.” Arin blinked. 

“He didn't tell you?”

“No, he did,” Arin lied, not even sure why he was lying. Was he embarrassed that he didn't know that his own boyfriend was sick when their social media manager did? “I just thought – you said you hadn't seen him.”

“I was hanging out with him when we first got in.”

“Oh,” Arin said again. “Yeah, makes sense. I didn't even stop by before the meeting, so I haven't seen him. But I'll make sure he gets these. Thanks, Allie.”

“No problem. Poor guy just catches every bug that goes around, doesn't he?”

“Yeah,” Arin echoed. “Bad luck.”

When she left, Arin got up and closed the door behind her and sat back down, slowly. 

**

“Sorry I didn't catch your text,” Dan said apologetically. “I was driving.”

Arin glanced at the bag he was holding. “You went to CVS.”

“Just picked up a few things.”

“Cold medicine?”

Dan did a bit of a double take. “What?”

“You told Allie that you had a cold,” Arin said slowly. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I did.”

Arin had a split second where he wondered if he was just being childish, but then his big mouth plowed ahead anyway. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Dan set his bag on the table carefully. “Well, of course I was going to.”

“Yeah? When?”

“After your meeting. I thought you said you'd be there til four.”

“Got out earlier than we expected. You could have texted me at the meeting.”

“It's just a cold. It's really not worth bothering you when you're busy with important things.”

“Nobody would have minded. I take calls all the time during meetings. Everyone does. I could have gone to CVS for you on my way back.”

“It's only a twenty minute drive for me. I'm fine, Arin, really. It's just a bit of a sore throat. I didn't want to freak you out. That's all.”

“You're rasping,” Arin said. “That doesn't sound like a bit of a sore throat. It sounds like it hurts.”

Dan held up the bag. “This stuff will help.”

“Have you had any more headaches? I heard you took another huge nap yesterday after I left.”

“Who told you that?”

“I forget. Tucker, I think.”

Dan just looked at him with an odd expression. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess I did. Didn't think it was newsworthy. He just told you?”

“Well – I asked.”

“Why?”

“Because I was worried about you, Dan.”

“Right, okay, I get that.” Dan tugged on a sprig of his hair, his lips tight. “But you really don't have to get other people to babysit me.”

He didn't sound mad. Arin didn't think Dan was capable of sounding mad. But having Dan even mildly annoyed at him was kind of like someone punching him in the sternum. 

“I didn't ask anyone to babysit you,” Arin said. “Why would I do that?”

Dan chewed the inside of his cheek and said nothing. Then he said, in what seemed like an abrupt change of topic,“What is this really about?”

“I just don't know why you wouldn't tell me right away. Like, hey, heads up, I think I'm coming down with something.”

“That's not – ” Dan shook his head. “I didn't think it was that important. I didn't want you to panic.”

“What, did you think I'd start losing it in the middle of a business meeting, or something?”

Dan looked at him with an odd expression. “I don't know. You've been – I don't mean this as an accusation or anything, but you've been on edge lately. It worries me.”

Arin ran his hands through his hair. “You shouldn't be worrying about me. Especially not when you're sick.”

“It's just a cold, Arin.”

“Look, I know I'm stupid as hell sometimes when it comes to you, but - ” But what? Was he going to insist that Dan allow Arin to keep tabs on him at all times whether he liked it or not? 

“I didn't say that.” Now Dan sounded hurt. “I wouldn't call you stupid.”

“I know you wouldn't.” Arin grasped for something else to say. Were they actually having their first argument over this? “Look, let's just – did you already finish what you were doing with Brian today? Do you want me to drive you home?”

“It's three o'clock. I think I can make it to the end of the day.”

“If there's anything you need finished, I can just ask the team to help.”

“That's not fair at all. Look, I'm going to stay out of the way, I won't get anyone else sick. I'll go home and sleep a bunch and I'll feel better in the morning.”

“I'm not worried about other people getting sick. I'm worried about _you._ ”

“Okay,” Dan said, more softly. “That's sweet of you, and I do appreciate it...”

Arin braced himself for the _but_.

“I just,” Dan started, choosing his words carefully. “I wish you could trust me enough to judge for myself what constitutes an emergency, or something I need you for right away. It's okay to relax sometimes. I was going to tell you. I'm not keeping anything from you.”

That stung. “I know. It's not that I don't trust you.”

“Then what is it?”

Arin hesitated. The look on Dan's face made his stomach twist. “I don't know,” he said, because he really didn't. “I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I'd be mad too, if...”

“I'm not mad at you, Arin.” There was something in Dan's voice that Arin couldn't place, but he sounded sincere enough.

“Well – I'm still sorry.” Arin hugged him, gently, feeling Dan's tense body relax in his arms. 

“Are you sending me home?” Dan asked quietly, with his chin on Arin's shoulder.

“If you feel okay enough to stay, that's fine.” Arin pulled back. “I'm not going to tell you what to do.”

Dan nodded. “Thank you,” he said, softly. “I'll stay till five thirty like usual. And I'll call you later tonight, okay? We can talk then.”

“Sounds good,” Arin said numbly. “I'll be around. Are you sure I can't drive you home?”

“If it'll make you feel better, then – yeah, sure. You'll have to pick me up in the morning if I leave the car here.”

“I could sleep over.”

“You don't want to get sick and pass it to Suze.”

“I'll sleep on the couch.”

Dan scanned his face, uncertain, and Arin felt a jolt in his stomach as he realized that Dan was going to say yes out of sympathy.

“Or I guess, maybe you want to be alone,” Arin conceded. He didn't want pity. “It's okay if you don't want me around. I'm being – maybe I'm overreacting.”

“Just a little,” Dan said, sounding relieved. “You're welcome to stay – you always are – but you know my couch messes up your back.”

“Maybe you're right. Well – the ride is still yours, if you want it.”

“I'll take you up on that. Thanks, Arin.”

“No problem.”

“I'll catch you in a bit? Brian and I have to finish up.”

“Yeah, alright. Come knock when you're ready to head out.”

Dan took his CVS bag and gave Arin a quick smile before slipping out the door.

Arin tried to keep going on the script he was working on, but it was hard to focus. He tried for another twenty minutes, but then rubbed his temples and sighed. The faint sound of coughing from the room next door. Arin wanted to go in and check, to tell Brian to keep an eye on him, but that was overstepping and Arin knew it. He _did_ trust Dan. It was only...

Only what? Arin didn't even know. He stared at himself in the reflection of the window, wondering when he'd gotten paranoid to the point of being an asshole.

He was missing something here. He just didn't know what.


	7. vii.

Dan's cough worsened. 

Arin's worry grew, gnawing at the edges of his brain until he was ready to snap. He held his tongue as best as he could, even when it started to sound like Dan was hacking up his stomach lining. 

“Just a cold,” Dan said stubbornly when he caught Arin Googling his symptoms. Dan's pockets were stuffed with tissues and throat lozenges and Arin could smell a sickly medicinal cherry scent on his breath. “I have stuff at home. I'll tell my doctor, don't worry. It's just a cold, Arin, okay?”

“Just a cold,” Ross echoed him when he saw Arin picking at his cuticles at his desk. “He gets them all the time.”

Arin bought an extra case of Perrier for Dan and made him lemon tea with honey. He didn't ask the other employees and interns if Dan looked pale to them, if he looked tired, if he was doing too much work. The only point he fought Dan on was that it wouldn't be necessary for him to come to work after Thursday – the moving part was done, and Dan was in no state to record anything with his clogged nose and throat. Dan reluctantly agreed.

And so Arin got him to stay home until his doctor's appointment, careful not to baby him, fighting against the urge to stay with him and hover over him – helicoptering, as Dan had put it. 

“Just a cold,” he said to himself as he drove into work on the day of the appointment. Dan had refused his offer of a ride. He'd promised to text when he got there, and call when he got home. Arin had insisted on it. “Just a cold.”

He spent the morning combing through medical research on long-term brain injuries and their effect on the immune system as if he understood half of what he was reading. He called Dan once at lunch, once after work. His text after dinner went unanswered. Arin panicked and Suzy soothed him, saying that Dan was probably sleeping and everything was fine. 

One more restless night, and then it was the day of Dan's appointment. After a quick morning check in Arin pushed all of his anxiety to the back of his head where it settled like a sore tooth, throbbing behind his eyes. It was hard to focus. He was trying to act normally, and he thought he was doing a pretty good job, until his staff started giving him odd looks and asking, with faint worry in their voices, if Dan was really okay.

“He's fine,” Arin told them. “He just has a cold.”

The odd looks didn't stop, but the questions changed. Now everyone was asking _Arin_ if he was okay, which was confusing. Brent pulled him aside and tried to talk to him about changing their schedule, maybe working a little less or having another assistant come in to help him. And Ross looked at him with a frown, but he didn't prod, just asked Arin in a weirdly careful way if he maybe wanted to hang out for a bit.

Arin gave him a vague answer. And then he shut himself in his office and zeroed all his energy in on his tasks, with the effect of actually finishing his work day early for once. But he didn't want to go home, not yet. He couldn't go home until he heard from Dan.

Arin took Ross up on his offer and linked up with him and some mutual friends to play some games. Time moved terribly slowly, and with every passing minute Arin's gameplay got worse. 

And then, finally, his phone buzzed against the desk. 

_Just got back from the doctor._

Arin thought it was oddly toneless, even for a text. His gut clenched.

“Hold on a second, guys. Dan's texting me.” Arin threw his headphones aside and picked up his phone.

 _And? Everything check out okay?_ he typed back.

Dan took a little while to answer. The ellipsis hovered there on the screen. Arin heard Ross's voice, tinny and faint, from the headphone speakers. 

The ellipsis disappeared. Another pause. And then it came back. 

_Can you come over?_

Arin swayed in his chair and grabbed the edge of the desk. His fingers felt huge and clumsy as he tried to type back. Sentences were hard.

_Dan what_   
_Why_   
_What's going on_

Silence back. Arin couldn't stand it. He slammed his laptop closed and hit the call button. Every ring made his mind unravel a little bit more, and by the time Dan answered Arin was in the fainting position, head down between his knees.

“Don't freak out,” was the first thing Dan said. “Arin, I'm okay.”

“You're not,” Arin said to the floor. “You would have said – ”

“It's nothing serious. I'm okay. I promise.” Dan said it in a rush. “It's nothing, really. The doctor just said it would be a good idea to have someone with me, just in case. I'm technically in an at-risk group because of the surgery.”

The faintness came back. “At risk for what?”

“Nothing major. They're just being cautious.”

“Dan – ”

“It's a minor infection. _Minor_ , Arin. Please don't drive like a maniac if you come over here. Breathe.”

Arin breathed, raising his head from his lap. “Just an infection,” he repeated. “Where?”

Dan sighed. “It's pneumonia.” 

A brief release of tension, like water spilling over the floodgates. “Fuck's sake, Dan.”

“I didn't catch it from anyone. It's just bacterial. They said it was probably just a cold at first, but I guess it got worse.”

“Of course it did. When do you ever catch a fucking break? Fuck.” Arin stood. He tried to wrap his headphones up and put them away. The wire caught on the edge of the desk. Arin gritted his teeth and yanked, so hard that the wire snapped. Arin hurled the headphones across the room to make them clatter and crash satisfyingly across the floor.

“Arin.” Dan sounded alarmed. “Arin, whoa, hey, it's okay. I'm okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Dan didn't need Arin panicking on top of all of this. Dan needed comfort, not another reason to worry. Arin stared at the broken headphones and felt stupid.

“Are you okay?” Dan urged.

“I'll be fine.” _Breathe._ “I'll come over right now. I'll make you soup. We'll watch some movies. You're gonna be okay.”

“I'll be fine,” Dan agreed.

Arin wasn't so easily convinced. He kept going. “They would have asked you to go to the hospital if it was really serious.”

“Exactly. I've had pneumonia before. It sucks, but I've dealt with worse. It's just pneumonia.”

 _Just a cold_ turned into _just pneumonia._ Arin didn't like that one bit. It was getting out of control.

Dan went on when Arin didn't answer. “A million people get pneumonia every year.”

_Fifty thousand of them die._

That was stupid. He was being stupid. Old people died from pneumonia. Sick people died from pneumonia. Healthy men usually didn't just – 

– but Dan always had the worst luck. Even the flu had sent him to the hospital before. And now it was pneumonia, and that was worse, and the doctor had warned them...

“Arin?”

Arin shook himself. “Yeah. I'm here, babe.” He couldn't do this to himself. He couldn't do this to Dan. Dan needed him and Arin was going to be there. “I'm coming. Sorry.”

“No rush. I might need to lay down and I might fall asleep.”

“That's okay. But wait, I don't have your extra key. I'll have to stop at home first – fuck.” Arin pressed a hand to his temple. “I could – if I go home first it'll be forty, forty-five minutes, and then – ”

“Ar', it's okay, I can just leave my door unlocked.”

“Oh. Oh, okay, yeah.” Arin let out a breath. “That works. I'll be there soon.”

“Don't speed.”

Arin's eyes burned but he pushed back against the urge to cry at that. “I won't. Hang tight, Danny, I'm coming.”

**

“You can say I told you so,” Dan mumbled.

The room was dark for the middle of the day. Dan had kept the curtains pulled shut. The room was warm and there was a humidifier humming in the corner. There was a little garbage can next to the bed, full of wadded up tissues, and two Kleenex boxes on the nightstand. He had a giant water bottle and a half-empty bottle of Perrier. Dan's face was as pale as his sheets and he was buried in what looked like six blankets, and yet he was shivering. To Arin, the room was so warm it verged on uncomfortable. He wished he'd worn short sleeves, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that Dan needed him.

“What the fuck.” Arin sat next to him, feeling helpless and faintly sick himself at the sight of Dan's suffering. “I'm not going to gloat about you being sick.”

“I know.” Dan's voice was thick and strained. “Dunno why I said that.”

Arin wanted to hug him. The best he could do was smooth the hair out of Dan's face and pat the lump of blankets as comfortably as he could. “Because I was being pushy. You were right, it was just a cold. Until it wasn't.”

“You weren't being pushy,” Dan said. “You were just being – ”

“Overprotective.”

“I wasn't gonna say it.”

Arin's eyes burned. He rubbed at them. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry too. Arin, I – I know how much you care, and I know how hard it's been for you lately – ” Dan's sentence was cut off by another cough.

Arin shook his head. “I'm okay. Really. Don't worry about me. Let's just focus on you getting better, okay?”

Dan seemed to accept this, or maybe he was just too tired to argue. “Did you tell everyone at work?”

“Only Ross,” Arin had to admit. “We were on talking on Discord when you called. I had to say something. He could tell I was panicked. But I told him to keep it to himself.”

“I don't mind,” Dan said tiredly. “I feel lucky that everyone cares so much.”

“They can't help it. Everyone loves you because you're an amazing person.”

“You're biased, I think.”

“Nope.” Arin stroked his hair. “Not even a little. You mind if Suzy comes over? I asked if she could bring me some clothes so I can stay a while. I didn't tell her why.”

“You can tell her.” Dan sounded pained. “I didn't mean to make you feel like you have to feel guilty every time you – ” 

Dan's voice disappeared as a sudden coughing fit overtook him. He immediately ducked under his blanket to protect Arin. Alarmed, Arin sat back, watching helplessly as Dan's body shook with the force of his hacking. He groped for a Kleenex and Arin handed him the box so he could take one out and spit into it.

“Sorry I'm so gross,” Dan said thickly, wadding up the tissue. 

“You're not gross, dingus. You're sick.” Arin sighed. “Fucking pneumonia, what the hell.”

“It's not the end of the world.” Dan tried to sound cheery. Even being sick couldn't cloud his sunny nature. “I'll be okay soon. The doctor just said to make sure I'm getting lots of fluids and to get a lot of sleep.”

Arin nodded. He liked that. It was simple. Arin had control. “I stopped at the grocery store. I brought another case of your spicy water.”

“My spicy water?” Dan laughed, which turned into another cough. “You mean sparkling water?”

“Spicy water,” Arin repeated, trying to keep his smile, to keep Dan's spirits up. “I put a bunch in your fridge. I'll bring you one whenever you want. And I'll keep your regular water full. And I'm going to make you soup. I picked up all the ingredients.” It felt good to have a game plan. Arin could handle this. 

“What kind of soup?”

“Special soup.”

Dan giggled faintly. “Gross.”

“It's not gross, it's special. Are you implying that I'd put something nasty in your soup?”

“Special soup,” Dan repeated, teasing. “Not exactly a name that inspires confidence.”

“It has no name. I kinda made it up. I'm going to make it without the stuff that bothers your tummy, but it'll still be good.”

“I'd love to drink your special soup, Arin.”

“Okay, now you're the one making it weird.”

Dan giggled again, then went quiet. His eyes slipped shut and he mumbled, “Will you wake me up when the soup is ready?”

“I will.”

“Good.” Dan tugged at the covers, and Arin helped pull them up to his chin. Dan looked up at him, his eyes tired but soft and trusting, and said, “I love you, Ar'. Thank you so much for coming over.”

Arin's heart ached. “Of course, baby. I love you too.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Dan's warm forehead. Was it too warm? Or was that just his imagination?

“Don't you dare get sick,” Dan scolded him in such an affronted tone that Arin had to giggle at him. “And don't you laugh, Arin, I'm serious.”

“Seriously _adorable,_ ” Arin corrected.

“Ugh, Ar', that was bad.”

“Made you smile, that's all I care about.”

Dan groaned, but as Arin got up to head downstairs, he caught the shadow of a faint smile still lingering on his pale face.

It helped hold Arin together. Barely. He managed to get the soup on the stove, and once it was simmering, Arin let himself sink into a chair and put his face into his hands. It felt like he was coming apart at the seams. 

“Just pneumonia,” he mumbled to himself, but it didn't sound convincing. 

Just pneumonia. It happened every day. Like car accidents. Like brain injuries. Like losing everything he loved. Arin couldn't stop it, no matter how hard he tried. He'd kept such a close eye on Dan, he'd tried to do everything right, and it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

 _It's not your fault,_ some faint logical part of his mind tried to tell him. _This isn't on you._

And then the stove timer went off, making him jump and bash his knee on the underside of the table. In a weird way the pain felt good, like he deserved it. When he took the lid off the pot the steam burned his palm a little, and that felt well deserved, too. 

_That's not a road you want to go down._

“I know,” Arin said out loud, irritably. He'd work on that later. Later, after Dan was okay.

Arin ran his pink palm under cold water. Then he ladled the soup into a bowl and forced his face into something like a smile as he took it upstairs.


	8. viii.

Suzy ended up staying the night. Dan's sectional couch was big enough for them to sleep on, with their heads next to each other in the middle. In the morning she helped Arin make breakfast, and the three of them spent the day watching TV and trying not to wince whenever Dan coughed so hard he gagged. 

Still, though, he had enough appetite to eat lunch and dinner, and the weekend passed with relative ease.

“How are you doing?” Suzy asked Arin on Sunday morning as she looked at Dan's K-cup options, neatly stacked in the cupboard. Dan was still fast asleep. 

Arin filled the Keurig's reservoir for her. “Does it matter?” 

“Arin.”

“Sorry.” Arin hated coffee, but he almost felt the urge to make one just so he didn't feel so dead on his feet. Dan didn't have any energy drinks in the house, or even soda. “I'm okay, I think.”

“You think?”

Arin shrugged and nudged the sugar bowl over within her reach. “I mean, I'm not having a breakdown yet. You think Dan would want coffee? Or is that like, not hydrating enough? Does he have tea somewhere?”

He was talking too much, being too brusque, and she saw right through it. But all she said was, “I know he has the lemon tea I got him. We could ask him if he'd like one, when he wakes up.”

“Right.” Arin glanced at the clock. Dan never slept past ten-thirty.

“I just checked on him,” Suzy reassured him. “He's okay. I turned his humidifier back on.”

Arin nodded, suddenly mildly uncomfortable. “The noise was bothering him.”

A frown creased her forehead. “Arin, you don't need to explain – ”

“I meant to turn it back on, after – ”

“I know.”

“I forgot.” Arin stared at his reflection in the mirrored backsplash. “I just forgot.”

Suzy touched his arm, imploring, and Arin turned to look at her.

“I wasn't accusing you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“God, I know.” Arin said, abashed.

“It won't make a big difference if it was turned off for a few hours.”

“I know that too.”

“Do you?” she asked, softly, challenging.

“Okay,” Arin admitted. “Yeah, okay, you're right.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I'm mad at myself, that's all. He likes having it on. I just wanted him to be able to fall asleep.”

“This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“I know.”

“I know you know,” Suzy said, with the ghost of a smile. “I just thought you needed to hear it, before you get too far into your own head again.”

She left him with that, taking her mug out onto the back porch. Arin followed. She looked tired and pale in the sunlight, her hair combed but frayed from sleep. Arin, looking at her, had a sudden horrible thought that maybe she was getting sick, too. 

But then he remembered that Suzy always had trouble sleeping in new places. And as often as Dan had slept at their house, Suzy had stayed at Dan's only once, a few years ago. She'd probably gotten three, maybe four hours of sleep. And Arin suddenly felt guilty all over again.  
“I should have reminded you to bring your neck pillow,” he said absently.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.” Arin shook his head. “You can go home whenever you want. I'll call and check in. If anything changes - ”

“I think I should stay.”

“I've got everything under control. Maybe not with myself, but I can take care of Dan.”

“I know you can,” she said. “I never doubted that for a second. But maybe someone should be taking care of you, too.”

“You don't have to.”

“It's my job, isn't it?” 

Arin opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again and shook his head. “Using my own logic against me, huh?”

Suzy sipped her coffee and gave him a demure look. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Arin said, “Stay, then. And thank you.”

**

It was Sunday night that things went south. 

Dan finally woke near noon and came stumbling downstairs, bleary-eyed, wrapped in the robe Arin had left on his nightstand. He spent time with Suzy as Arin made ramen the way Dan liked. The food made Dan tired again. He was okay enough to join them for a movie, but around dinner he went to bed and passed out hard.

Arin was doing all he could, and it didn't feel like enough.

Arin kept checking in on him throughout the evening. Dan did not move. Not even to shift or roll over or turn his head.

“His body's just working to fight it off,” Suzy said to comfort him, although she was starting to worry, too. “We'll check on him before we go to bed.”

They did, but later in the night, Arin couldn't sleep. He stared at the ceiling, the silence pressing in all around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. Dread was creeping in like an insidious poison, and Arin's heart was pounding hard. The noise in his head wasn't like TV static; it was a constant, maddening roar.

The feeling that something was wrong got stronger with every passing minute. Arin got up from the couch and went upstairs.

Dan's door was closed to help keep the steam from his humidifier in. Opening the door was like walking into the bathroom after a shower. Arin called out softly so as to not frighten him, and said, “Hi babe, you asleep?”

Silence from the vague shape on the bed.

Arin crossed to the dresser and turned on the lamp instead of the main light. When he looked at the bed, he saw Dan's halo of curls splayed across the white pillow, his face oddly red even in the warm yellow glow of the lamp. He hadn't woken up. But he was shivering. And Arin knew something was wrong even before he got close enough to lay a hand on Dan's forehead and feel the heat radiating from him.

“Oh fuck,” Arin said out loud.

A white figure appeared in the doorway. Suzy, in her nightie and slippers. She met Arin's gaze and caught his panic.

“He's really hot,” Arin told her, and still Dan did not wake up, even with Arin's touch and Arin's loud voice. That got Arin good and scared, and his hand started to shake. Suzy came up beside him to feel and said, “Does he have a thermometer?”

“In the bathroom, yeah. But Suze – this is bad. I don't need to check to know this is way too hot. We have to take him to the ER.”

“Yeah,” she whispered back, and to Dan, “Danny, wake up.”

“Come on,” Arin added his voice. “Dan, fuck, hey, hey come on, wake up.” He shook Dan's shoulder, and fuck, if this didn't work he was going to fucking lose it.

But to Arin's relief, Dan's eyes cracked open. Barely. They were glazed with sleep and exhaustion. He looked up at the ceiling and his gaze slid out of focus.

“Dan?” Arin leaned over him, struggling to hold back his panic. “Danny, hey, talk to me, baby.”

Dan's eyes slowly turned and fixed on Arin. He did not smile. An odd look came over his face.

“Dan?” Arin went to brush the hair out of Dan's eyes, and Dan flinched back. 

“Where,” Dan started, his voice clogged and awful. “What...”

“You're gonna be okay, baby,” Arin said stupidly, trying to soothe, touching Dan's shoulder. “We're going to go to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” 

“You have a fever. You're burning up. This isn't pneumonia, it can't be.”

The look Dan gave him was terrifyingly familiar. He twitched, pulling away from Arin's touch. Arin, in stupid desperation, grabbed his hand instead. Dan kept his hand stiff like he wasn't sure what to do with that. 

“Dan?”

Dan coughed. Coughed again. “Where am I?” 

Suzy's hand went to her mouth. Arin opened his mouth but couldn't speak. It was Suzy that had to say, her voice high-pitched and scared, “You're in your house, Danny. You're in your own bed.”

Dan's eyes flickered to Suzy without a glimmer of recognition. He blinked once, slowly. Then he looked at Arin. 

“Where...” he said again, disoriented, confused. Then he coughed weakly and his eyes shut again.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Suzy whispered. “Arin?”

Arin was frozen. He couldn't move. He couldn't think.

Suzy, thank god, wasn't paralyzed. She said sharply, “Breathe. Breathe, Arin, do it now.”

He struggled to follow her advice. God, his heart was racing so fast, sweat soaking his hairline, hands shaking. The feeling was all too familiar. 

It was like whatever dam had been built up around the part of his brain where all the memories were kept had finally burst. The cracks had been showing and growing, but now there was nothing to hold his terror back. Dan's eyes, sliding in and out of focus, the lack of recognition when they looked at Arin – it was just like before, it was the same, maybe he never got better at all and everything was slipping away, for good this time.

Suzy was saying his name. Now she sounded scared, and oddly, her fear brought Arin back into the present. The instinct to protect her was stronger than anything else.

Arin gritted his teeth and found some shred of strength left. “I'm here,” he forced out. “Yes. You're right. I could pick him up, but getting him in our car – paramedics could do it faster.” The words made the panic retreat slightly. It was a plan. Arin needed to be in control. “Call 911. Tell them everything, that he's unresponsive, he's had a head injury in the past and has pneumonia now. I'll get him downstairs.”

Suzy didn't waste time, just grabbed her phone and made the call.

“Can you sit up?” Arin urged Dan, knowing the answer already. He tried to lift Dan by the shoulders anyway. 

Dan's eyes opened again. He was looking at Arin. Or looking through him. Like Arin was just a piece of scenery, like Dan was just gazing out of a car window at nothing in particular. And that blankness made Arin want to scream.

“Dan, it's Arin. It's _Arin._ Do you know who I am? Danny? Dan, please, you can't – this can't come back – you said – they said – it was just pneumonia – you were supposed to be fine – ”

Dan's lips parted. He coughed again. “Cold,” he said. “Turn the...the heat on.”

“It's me. It's Arin. Dan, do you know me?”

Dan shivered so hard his teeth clattered. “Close the window,” he mumbled. “I'm cold.”

Suzy was talking in the distance.

“They're sending an ambulance,” she told Arin. “I'm still on the phone. They said to stay on the line.”

“I'm going to pick you up,” Arin told Dan, even if he couldn't understand. “It's just me, okay? You're gonna be okay.”

Dan seemed heavier than usual. Maybe it was the dead weight of him, the way his legs hung limp instead of wrapping around Arin's waist like usual. Maybe it was because Arin hadn't worked out in weeks, had been prickling with anxiety, picky with his food. But he could still lift him safely and didn't fear the stairs. The paramedics could maneuver a stretcher up here, but it would take time, and Arin was painfully aware that every second counted.

Arin looked at Dan's florid face, the way his chest heaved for air that came with an ugly rattling sound. He didn't know pneumonia could get this bad. What if it wasn't pneumonia? What if it was something rare and deadly – but no, that was stupid – but it _could_ be, something related to his brain trauma, something the doctors didn't predict because they didn't know, couldn't know, couldn't explain why Dan's memory came back or why it had faded completely in the first place -

Arin took a breath and felt his knees wobble. For one awful second the edges of his vision went greyish, like the colour was leaching out of the world – and then he blinked, and it was gone, and he was left with a burnt-out feeling like maybe he'd blown a circuit.

Unsteady now, unused to this feeling of almost paralytic calm, Arin touched Dan's face, stroked his hair, said his name. Dan mumbled something under his breath, and Arin said, “Danny, I love you.”

And Dan's eyes fluttered open, blank and confused. He looked at Arin – looked _through_ him, like he didn't even recognize that Arin was there.


	9. ix.

Suzy was driving. Arin, beside her, was quiet. 

It was like, Arin thought dimly, the kind of feeling he used to get, after walking out of a fast-paced movie in a busy theatre. Ears ringing from the noise, his nose assailed by the burnt salt-grease and sweat-perfume mixture of the crowd of bodies, his eyes dazzled by the flashing lights and brilliant neon signs – and then suddenly, silence. A still night, muted colours, darkness.

A little bit surreal. A little bit like the rest of the world didn't exist. The exact opposite of that day at the beach.

It wasn't the same hospital that Dan had been taken to before, but it might as well have been. Everything was the same, to the eerie fluorescent light to the endless white-walled corridors, the subdued murmur of voices, the brisk footfalls of nurses and doctors walking to and fro with purpose and intent, the quiet institutional beeps of the elevator opening and closing. 

Arin sat with his head in his hands. Suzy sat next to him, legs drawn up to her chest. For a long time they didn't speak. 

Finally Arin said bleakly, “Suze.”

She knew him so well that all she needed was that one word. She knew exactly what he needed. She put her arms around him and pressed him close, and Arin closed his eyes to the rest of the world and just breathed, listening to her heart and feeling her chest rise and fall. Steady. Something to focus on.

When he pulled away, feeling a little more normal, he said, “I don't know what to do with myself. All we can do is wait.”

“You're holding up well so far,” she said softly, comforting. “Just keep holding on, baby, we'll get news soon.”

“I'm not,” Arin said. “I feel – numb. Like I don't even know how to feel sad or scared anymore.” 

It almost made him feel guilty. Where was his panic? Where were the tears? 

“You might be in shock.”

“I don't know.” Arin stared at the ceiling. “Suze. I – I've been scared for a long time, but this is too much to handle. I don't know what to do. There's nothing I _can_ do. And that's fucking terrifying.”

The room suddenly felt tight and small. Arin's stomach clenched and he swallowed. 

“Are you feeling sick?”

“Sort of.” It was a vague discomfort, not like he was going to puke, but like he might be in danger of it if this wave didn't pass. He didn't want Suzy worrying about him, though, so he did his best to shake it off. “I'm okay. Why are they taking so long? What are they doing with him?”

Of course, she didn't have any more answers than he did. “Dan's tough,” she said. “You know that.”

“Yeah.”

“Whatever it is, he'll pull through. And when he wakes up, you'll be there, and that'll cheer him up.”

“Yeah.” Arin hesitated, not wanting to speak the words out loud in case that somehow made them come true. “But what if...what if it's bad, and he doesn't...what if it's like before?”

“You mean when he had amnesia?”

“Yeah.”

She shook her head. “He didn't hit his head or anything.”

“He didn't know who I was or where he was.” 

“I don't think it's the same thing. I think he was just really disoriented.”

“How do we know?” Arin asked like Suzy could possibly have an answer to that, too.

“We don't,” Suzy agreed. “But just think about it. Did any of his doctors ever say that amnesia could just come back suddenly?”

“Even the doctors don't know everything about it. Dan had a headache a few days ago – what if that was a sign?”

“Headaches are a sign of pneumonia too, Arin. He said himself that it was nothing like the headaches he had after the accident.”

“But we don't know. It could.” Things were starting to spiral, and the walls were too close, squeezing around him. “He didn't know me. I couldn't even tell him that everything was going to be okay. That I was coming with him.”

“Well, we're not losing him. He's not dying, Arin. They said he was stable.”

“They hadn't even looked at his records yet. The accident – ”

“ - has nothing to do with him being in a stable condition or not,” she countered.

Arin didn't answer. Couldn't answer. He felt so drained and exhausted...

“Arin,” Suzy started, gently. “We have to stay strong. We need to trust the doctors. You've done all you can.”

Her hand found his, and squeezed it tight.

**

“It's a bacterial infection,” the nurse told the two of them beneath the cold glare of the terrible tiled lights in the corridor. “A blood infection. A very minor case of septicemia triggered by his pneumonia.”

It was all just noise to Arin, who only had one question. “Will he be okay?” he blurted before the nurse could finish. “Is he in pain?”

“It is more than likely that he'll make a complete recovery in two weeks,” she said, seemingly not offended at being cut off. “We're giving him antibiotics and painkillers intravenously. I would say there's some discomfort, but no, he's not in serious pain.”

Arin breathed a sign of relief. That was good. That was a game plan. But that was only half the battle. “Before we called the ambulance it was like – like he had amnesia or something. And he already...I guess you know, you would have seen his medical records...”

“We did note that he suffered head trauma earlier this year,” the nurse said. “This is by no means related. Severe sepsis can, in some cases, cause partial memory loss, but your friend is nowhere close to being severe. He is not considered at risk for later stages of sepsis – he's young and relatively healthy. It's good that we caught it early.”

Arin broke in again, impatient. “Is he awake? Did you check to see if he knows who he is?”

“He was able to answer some basic questions, yes. He was unclear on how he got here, but seems to understand what's happening now.”

“Can we see him?” Suzy asked. “He's not contagious, is he?”

“The blood infection is not contagious,” the nurse reassured him. “Neither is bacterial pneumonia. The cold that triggered it is, but he should be well past the contagious stage, having already taken oral antibiotics. The nurse on duty will take you through the sanitization practices and safety procedures beforehand...”

Suzy was listening attentively. Arin nodded along, listening for important details, but letting everything else flow in one ear and out the other. Every second standing here talking was another second that Dan was alone, and Dan had to be scared. 

He was asleep when they saw him. The weird bright spots of colour in his cheeks had faded. Other than the hospital gown and the needle taped to the back of his hand, he looked peaceful, like he could be sleeping in his own bed. 

“Poor Danny,” Suzy said softly, and stroked his frizzy hair.

Arin had to reach out and lay a hand on Dan's arm, like he might disappear if Arin wasn't touching him.

“I'm going to stay,” he told Suzy determinedly, as if she was going to argue. “I'm going to stay until he wakes up. I have to.”

But of course she didn't argue at all. “I know.”

“I don't think – I'm not sure if I can – you have the numbers, can you call or text or - ” He didn't even know. They had Dan's parents on file. Would they call over this? Would they bother? Arin didn't know. Couldn't think. It was all so confusing, having this happen again, being stuck back here like a nightmare. Waiting for news. Wallowing in the gut churning anxiety. No way to escape, nothing to do but wait.

“I'll take care of everything,” Suzy said, and she did.

And Arin dragged himself into the single lonely chair, his body heavy and tired, worn down to his very bones. The sense of deja vu struck him hard. How many nights had he slept in the hospital at Dan's bedside? They all ran together in his head, a long stretch of grey memory, cloudy and thick like a rainy Florida day. 

“You're gonna be okay,” he whispered out loud like he could make it be true. “You survived a head injury, you survived brain surgery, you survived a dozen things nobody should have to suffer, so this is nothing. You're gonna wake up and everything is going to be okay.”

Dan would have smiled at that if he could hear. 

Arin thought about the day at the pier, the way Dan had looked when he laughed beneath the glowing sunset. Dan always found a way to laugh. He'd been through more than anyone should have to endure, and nothing seemed to stop him.

Arin took off his sweater and draped it over himself, burying his face into the collar, smelling Dan's aftershave from when he'd worn it last.


	10. x.

Somehow, just before the grey edge of dawn broke over the horizon, Arin fell asleep.

He woke up to the feeling of his cell phone vibrating in his lap. Confused and disoriented, he jerked awake and ended up flinging the phone to the floor with a clatter. He stooped to pick it up – jesus, his back hurt from sleeping in a fucking chair, he was getting old – and when he got up he saw Dan, with his eyes open, and a smile on his face.

“Hi,” Dan said, sounding tired and sick but _there._ “This shit again, huh?”

“Dan!” Arin scrambled to his feet. It was dark outside. Arin's sense of time was all fucked up. How long had he slept? What day was it? “You – you know who I am? You know where you are?”

“'Course I do, big cat. I mean, I definitely know who you are, and based on context clues I can guess that I'm in a hospital. I seem to spend a lot of time here.” 

“Do you know how you got here?”

Dan coughed and winced. “No. But you're wearing the same shirt you had on when I last saw you, so I guess it's safe to say I wasn't out for long.”

“We called an ambulance. Or Suzy did. I came in to check on you at like, midnight.”

“Was I unconscious?”

“Not quite. But I had a hard time waking you up. When you did, you were totally out of it.” It was a struggle just to say it, like the words were a curse that might bring it back. “You didn't know where you were. You didn't seem to know who I was.”

“Oh,” Dan said in a small voice.“That scared you pretty bad, huh?”

“You have no fucking idea,” Arin said weakly, stumbling to Dan's bedside and dropping to his knees to be face to face with him. Dan reached out and touched his arm.

“I'm okay,” he said, like Arin was the one who needed comforting. “My chest hurts but I feel okay. Don't be scared, big cat.”

“I'm not scared,” Arin lied.

Maybe Dan was gullible enough to believe him, or maybe he didn't want to argue. He nodded sleepily and said, “I don't remember anything except going to bed and feeling super tired. I guess my fever got really bad? I've never greyed out like that. I didn't know pneumonia could get that serious.”

“It wasn't the pneumonia. The nurse said you have a blood infection. The pneumonia triggered it, or something, I don't know how it works.”

“Blood infection?”

“Septicemia,” Arin said, and Dan's eyes widened.

“Isn't that serious?”

“It can be. It's like the precursor to full blown sepsis, which is super bad. But they're pumping you full of antibiotics. They say you'll probably be okay since we caught it early.”

Dan absorbed all of that with wonder. 

“Jeeze,” he said. “You've probably been worried sick.”

“New rule,” Arin said, wincing at the sympathy in Dan's eyes. “You're not allowed to worry about other people while you're the one that's suffering.”

Dan coughed again and closed his eyes. “Hypocrite,” he said, but his voice was warm.

“What do you mean?”

“Ar', you've been suffering for weeks now, maybe months, and all you do is worry about me.”

“It's not that bad,” Arin lied again, because he couldn't stand Dan lying in a hospital bed talking about Arin's problems. 

Dan didn't him get away with it this time. “Didn't we have a rule about lying to each other?”

Arin hesitated. “I don't want to make it seem like what happened to you is somehow equal to me being shaken up about it.”

“It's not a contest, you know.”

“I know. Suzy and I talked about it too. I was going to talk to you, but then...” Arin gestured an arm at Dan in general. “But it's really not that bad. I'm gonna be okay. We'll work through it together when you get better.”

Dan just looked at him. “It's not that bad? You've been having nightmares, forgetting to eat, biting and picking your nails again...”

Arin looked down at his fingers. His nails were rough, jagged, the cuticles red and irritated.

“But I'll be okay,” Arin said again, and even to his own ears his voice was tinged with desperation. “I just have to – as long as I can take care of you, as long as everything's under control, I'm fine. It's easy. That's all I need to do. If I don't – if I don't then you might – ” 

“Get sick and end up in the hospital?”

Arin didn't know what to say.

“You can't control everything,” Dan said. “You'll never be able to and it's not good for you to keep trying. You gotta know that. You have to figure that out before you break down.”

Arin's throat had gone dry, and his eyes burned. He didn't know Dan could be so perceptive. He felt a sting and looked down to see himself unconsciously picking at his thumbnail. He'd drawn blood. 

“You know,” Dan said quietly, catching the look on Arin's face, “you're allowed to have trauma too, big cat.”

“No, I can't.” Arin had to force it out. “Not until...”

“Not until what?”

“Until you're better. Until...”

Dan just shook his head. “Not good enough. If I'm gonna be here for a while, you need to step back and start taking care of yourself for once.”

Arin looked at him blankly. “But if you're here alone...”

“I'm not alone,” Dan said reasonably. “The nurses are gonna check in on me. I have a call button.”

“What if you need something else?”

“Phones exist, Arin. I dunno where mine is, but if you find it for me, I can text you, FaceTime, whatever you want.”

“What if...” Arin hesitated, hating himself for the illogical thought, hating that he had to say it out loud. “What if something happens and I can't be here in time?”

“Arin...”

“Sorry.” Suddenly Arin's nose felt like it wanted to run. He scrubbed his face. “I'm being stupid, I know. The nurse said you're going to be okay. You're in good hands.” _But not mine. It's out of my control._

The static hissed and crashed in his head, and the air felt a little too thick to breathe comfortably.

Dan looked at him. “Don't say that. You're not stupid.”

“I'm fucked up, Dan.” Arin felt like he was unraveling, and it was _wrong_ , it was embarrassing, he couldn't afford to fall apart now. He wasn't as strong as Dan, not as strong as Suzy, and he didn't feel very deserving of the love and patience they were showing him. Dan was lying in a hospital bed and Arin was being selfish, and he couldn't stop it. “I'm really fucked up.”

“That's okay,” Dan said, and the pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in Arin's gut. “It was a fucked up thing that happened to us.”

“Happened to _you_ ,” Arin corrected. 

“To _us_ ,” Dan repeated stubbornly. “You're a part of me. You're a part of my life.”

Arin could argue the point, but Dan was looking tired and it was clearly wearing him out to speak so much.

“We can talk about this later,” Arin said. “After you're better.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Dan squeezed his hand. “Will you bring me my phone when you come back?”

“Of course. I'll find it. It must be in your room somewhere.”

“Or the bathroom. I leave it there a lot.”

“I'll find it. You want anything else in case you get bored? I have an iPad.”

“That would be great. There's a book on my nightstand too, the one with a bookmark in it?”

“Phone, iPad, book,” Arin said. “Chargers too. Anything else?”

“I think I'm good.” Dan's eyes closed. His eyelashes cast shadows beneath his eyes like bruises. Arin could see a tightness in his forehead, and his cheeks were gaunt, sharpening the lines of his jaw. Above the sheet his collarbones jutted against his skin.

Arin didn't want to leave him. He eased up off his knees to sit the edge of the bed. He stroked his hand down Dan's arm, the one without the IV needle. 

“Does anything hurt?” Arin asked, as if he could do anything about it if it did.

“Sort of all over. Not too bad. Just achy, like the flu.” It sounded like every word was becoming more of an effort.

“You're getting tired?”

“Yeah. Jus' wanna sleep now.”

Arin hesitated, then stood. “I won't go far. I can be here in less than half an hour if you ever need me.”

“I know. You'll be okay, won't you, big cat?” His voice was so soft, even when it was obviously strained and dry. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

Dan's chest rose and fell in a long exhale, or a sigh. His forehead went smooth.

Arin bent to kiss it before he left.

_You can't control everything. You gotta know that. You're allowed to have trauma, too._


	11. xi.

It wasn't anything like last time Arin had spent day after day in the hospital, holding his vigil. There was no sense of doom hovering over the office, no friends flying down from across the country, no wariness from the nurses when Arin asked them questions. There was no conference of doctors discussing Dan's case with a kind of detached curiosity and intellectual interest, like he was something they rarely came across.

It was bad – but not that bad. It was getting better. And Dan seemed none the worse for it.

For the whole two weeks, Dan was bright-eyed and cheery, enduring the chest pain and the fatigue and the needles they stuck him with until his arm was bruised. His persistent cough gradually grew lighter and drier until it stopped sounding like it was coming up from his lungs. Arin came every day for four or five hours, keeping Dan company, holding his hand and telling him dumb stories and funny anecdotes from work to make him smile. 

With each day Dan picked up strength. Arin tried not to hover, didn't freak out when Dan took a walk around the west wing of the hospital without asking the nurse. He tried his best to take a step back. When the nurse came in to check up on Dan, Arin let Dan do the talking as she explained the basic precautions Dan should take and the risks he'd face when he returned to his work and life. 

Dan was doing well. But Arin was tired. Tired of the hospital and the awful sterile way it smelled. Tired of the weight of worry hanging on his shoulders, dragging on him like a ball and chain. He put on a smile for Dan but his nights at home were restless. It felt like he _should_ be doing a million different things, but there was just nothing to be done. Brent wouldn't let him come into work. Suzy was picking up extra chores and trying to let him rest. 

Arin should have been happy, too. Dan's doctors were positive. Dan was positive. There was nothing wrong, and he was getting the best care possible, and soon he would be home and everything would be normal again.

Maybe it was just that Arin had forgotten what normal was supposed to feel like.

On the final day, when Dan was scheduled for a final assessment to see if he could be discharged, Arin skipped work and got to hospital just before ten o'clock. Dan wasn't in his room, which gave him a start, but when he inquired at the desk they told him that Dan had been feeling well enough to go for a walk around in the courtyard.

Arin traced his steps and found him in a sunny corridor just outside of the atrium, where the wide glass windows sent streams of slanted light across the cheap tiles and lent a sense of cheer to an otherwise lifeless room.

Dan turned around at the sound of his footsteps, blinded by the sun, his frizzy hair shining gold around his head like a halo. 

“Thinking of making a break for it?” Arin asked, his voice echoing slightly.

Dan lit up at the sound of his voice. “It's tempting,” he said. “God, I hate this place. But they want to let me out today anyway.”

“They do? What did the doctor say?”

Dan gave him a thumbs up, like a dork. “All clear. Lungs are great. Blood is good. They took a lot of it, but then they gave me a cookie after. I'd be out already, but because of all the head injury stuff from before, I think they're being more cautious. The doctor is gonna come talk to me about home recovery and stuff, but it's just a precaution, I think.”

Arin hugged him hard, careful not to crush Dan's body against his chest, knuckles going white at his spine, like if he held on tight enough he wouldn't have to let go. 

“Oof,” Dan said, but he was laughing, and he hugged back just as fiercely. “Careful with those guns, Arin. I'm a delicate man.”

He was kidding and they both knew it. “You aren't allowed to scare me like that ever again,” Arin said into Dan's ear, and then kissed it. “You hear me?”

“I can't make any promises,” Dan said, and he bit his lip. “You know that, right? I'll always be at risk.”

Arin's smile faded. “I just meant...”

“I know what you meant. Just a figure of speech. Or, not really. But just one of those things people say.”

“Then why...” Arin shook his head. His brief burst of excitement had been doused, and he hadn't expected such negativity from Dan. 

Dan noticed, and went on hurriedly. “I don't mean that in like, a glass half empty way. I don't want to scare you. I meant it because we have to take that for what it is. I can't change it.”

“We can forget about it for a while,” Arin said, almost pleadingly.

“We can't, though. I can't.” Dan shook his head. “I'll always have an immune system that hates me. There are some long-term complications that can hit me when I get older. Bad things can always happen.”

Arin struggled to find his smile again. “Hey, let's just focus on the good news, huh?”

“The good news is that I feel better,” Dan said, “but I also need to know that you're going to feel better too.”

“But there's nothing wrong with me.”

Dan shook his head. “You said it yourself, Arin. You've been really messed up over this – not just this, I mean, but in general. And it's like, manifesting into this sense of anxiety and constant dread that something bad is going to happen to me, and that it's your job to stop it.”

“But you just said...”

“I know what I said. And I meant that yeah, bad things might happen, but that doesn't mean we have to be scared. The possibility of anybody going through life without something scary happening is pretty low, but if all we do is sit there dreading what _might_ happen, we're going to miss a lot of the good stuff.”

“I just want you to be safe,” Arin's voice cracked, just a little. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy, Arin. I have a wonderful life. And you're a big part of it – you've made it even better.” He smiled. “I mean, I fell in love with you twice.”

That made Arin feel warm again. His voice steadied. “I guess you did. I don't know why, but I'm happy you did.”

Dan rolled his eyes affectionately. “I could give you a hundred reasons why,” he said. “But the point is that you do enough. More than enough. You've been here every day, just for me. I could only ask for one more thing.”

“Anything.”

“I'm a package deal,” Dan said. “Me, and my illness, and my head injury.”

“I'll take it,” Arin said immediately, and Dan laughed.

“Then we're going to have to learn to live with it. I'm still learning to come to terms with everything that happened. I'm gonna need you to start trying, too.”

He was being honest. Dan was always honest. He didn't know how to be anything else.

Arin needed to be honest, too.

“I _am_ still scared,” Arin said slowly. “I'm scared because I know I can't control what happens to you. No matter how much I try.”

“No,” Dan agreed. “But that's just life. It's not your job to stop it from happening. It's your job to live and enjoy what we have. Just take it day by day.”

“Yeah,” Arin said, slowly. “But if I hadn't been there, the night we had to get you to the hospital...”

“But you _were_ there. You were there because my doctor advised me to have someone watch for exactly what happened. When I needed you, I called. And I always will.”

Arin looked up. Dan was standing with his back to the window, his shadow tall and strong. The gauntness in his cheeks didn't make him look frail anymore. 

Arin could be strong, too. He closed his eyes and said, “I think that – I need help.”

“Professional help?”

“Yeah. I think – I think, the one you talk to, the trauma specialist...it would be a good idea.”

Even just getting that out made something loosen in his chest.

“I think so too.” Dan squeezed his hand. “It's a good first step.”

“We could go together, maybe. You could ask – or I could. I think it would be good for me. For us.”

“For us,” Dan repeated, a smile breaking out on his face. “Yeah. That is good idea.”

“Can't take credit. Suzy suggested it.”

“She's a smart woman.”

“She is. I don't know what I did to deserve both of you. But I'll spend every day of my life trying to be half as brave and smart as the two of you are.”

“You're enough,” Dan said softly. “I told you, you're more than enough already.” 

It was an odd place to have an epiphany, but then again, nothing about Arin's life had ever really been normal. Arin breathed it in, thinking about everything Dan said, everything they'd been through and everything they'd enjoyed and created, together. He thought of Suzy, living for years with the knowledge of her mother's condition looming over her, the way she still flew to Florida and laughed and _lived_.

There might be bumps in the road. There _would_ be bumps in the road. But they had to keep driving, and behind every turn would be a new adventure. Dan was right – and more importantly, Dan needed to know that Arin was on board, supporting instead of worrying, strong enough to hold up if something did happen. Dan didn't need to be supervised twenty-four seven, and he was strong enough to ask for help when he needed it. 

And Arin would always be there for him.

Arin hugged Dan again, feeling his sun-warmed skin and catching the familiar sweet-musty scent of his frizzy hair. He tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug, and maybe Dan understood, because his eyes were wet when they pulled apart. 

“Thank you,” Arin said. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“I didn't think you needed to be told what a fuckin' superhero you are,” Dan said, smiling.

“Sidekick,” Arin corrected. “You're the superhero. You've been stuck in a hospital room for like two weeks and you haven't complained once.”

“Maybe you missed the part where I complained literally _every day_ about the food here.”

Despite himself, Arin grinned. “You cheered up fast enough when I brought you chicken nuggies instead.”

“I'm a simple man,” Dan acknowledged. “Chicken nuggies are the way to my heart. Especially if they're shaped like dinosaurs. That was a nice touch.”

“Suzy went to pick up some stuff so I can make us sushi when you get home. You'll like that even better.”

Dan lit up. “Oh man, that made my stomach growl. I'm excited.”

“We'll put some weight back on you,” Arin promised, already thinking that maybe Dan would love his crispy hash browns with baked eggs. He couldn't wait to have Dan back home with him. In a weird way, he was even almost looking forward to therapy, to healing, to leaving all this simmering panic behind for good.

Dan caught the expression on his face and said, “I haven't seen you look like that in a long time. It's like you just...unwound, or something.”

“What do I look like?”

“Hopeful,” Dan answered, softly. 

“Yeah?” Arin pulled his shoulders back, straightening his spine, and was surprised to feel the lack of tension in his chest and neck and back. “Huh.”

“You feel better already?”

“Yeah,” Arin said, truthfully, thinking about it. “I don't know, but it's like – we have a game plan, you know? Both of us. Together. That feels good.”

“Right?” Dan said excitedly. “You'll like my therapist. She's cool as hell.”

“She must be great. I mean, just look at you.”

“She'll help you just as much, you'll see. It's going to get better from here.” 

Arin actually believed it. He felt like he'd just shed a hundred pounds. He ran his hand through Dan's hair, over the jagged scar, and said, “I can't wait.”


	12. xii.

Arin made Dan stay home for two weeks, but that was as much as Dan would allow. He was himself again, laughing and smiling, bright and alert, not so much as a single cough. He was welcomed back with relief and hugs and shouts, and for a few days not a lot of work got done at all. And of course Arin didn't mind one bit. Dan ate up the attention and the love like a flower turning to face the sun and Arin loved to hear the new office filled with his laughter again. 

Dan's therapist was as good as Dan promised. She was cool and genuine, like Suzy, and warm and funny like Dan. Arin had been through therapy before, and he knew something of what to expect, but he was still surprised at the mental blocks he had put up around himself. And more than a little daunted at the work it was going to take to tear them down.

But he didn't have to do it alone.

It was okay that he wasn't okay. He was allowed to have trauma. And he was allowed to heal at his own pace. No matter what, Dan and Suzy would be there, and between the three of them, nothing was too much to handle.

It was a while before things settled down. But eventually, Dan sidled into Arin's office and said, “Hey, so when's our next date night?”

“Whenever you want,” was Arin's automatic answer. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Dunno. Doesn't matter.” Dan stretched himself out on Arin's couch. “I'm more concerned about what I want to do with you after I get you alone.”

Arin's ears went hot. He kind of loved it when Dan used that lecherous, teasing voice on him. He got up from his desk chair and joined Dan on the couch.

“What do you wanna do with me?” Arin asked playfully.

“Hmmm,” Dan's hand wormed into Arin's lap to squeeze his thigh. “It's a surprise.”

“A surprise? What is it?”

Dan laughed and nuzzled at Arin's ear, his stubble scratching the skin. It always made Arin shiver. “If I tell you, it's not a surprise, is it?”

Arin was intrigued. Dan wasn't usually coy. He was giggly and playful, sure, and bold in the bedroom like Arin always imagined him to be, but this was different for him. Arin could sense a current of excitement racing through him, quick and almost nervous. That was enough to set Arin's imagination on fire.

“Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully. “I can come over.”

“Tomorrow's good,” Dan answered right away like it was the answer he'd been hoping for. He grinned. “Come whenever you want.”

“I kinda wanna _come_ right now,” Arin said, which was stupid. Dan giggled anyway. 

“Walls are too thin,” he said. “Someone would hear us.”

“Someone would hear _you_ ,” Arin corrected. “I can keep quiet. You can't.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Footsteps outside the office door made them both dissolve into giggles, Dan collapsing against Arin's chest. He laughed harder and pushed his face into Arin's shirt as someone knocked on Arin's door.

“Are you guys being gross in there, or can I come in?” Brent asked, sounding resigned, and Dan went red-faced and non-verbal in the throes of his laughter.

“We're not being gross,” Arin yelled back. “Give me one fucking second, jesus.”

Dan rolled to the side to let Arin up. “I should go,” he said apologetically. “I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah, of course.” Arin sat up and straightened his clothes. “I'll see you later? And if not, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Dan echoed, and gave Arin stupid finger guns and a big dumb grin as he sidled out just as Brent was coming in. 

**

“So do I get my surprise, or what?”

They were sitting on Dan's couch, empty ramen bowls scattered on the table in front of them. Some movie was playing, but Arin's attention was more drawn to the man next to him than the action on the screen. 

Dan bit his lip. He wasn't even trying to be sexy, but fuck, everything he did was sexy. Arin fought the urge to pin him down and kiss that stupidly sultry mouth.

“I was thinking,” Dan started, shyly. “You've been so kind and patient and caring – I mean, not even just as my boyfriend, but always – and especially during these last few months.”

“Wait. You don't owe me anything,” Arin told him, bewildered. “You know that, right?”

Dan laughed. He was nervous, Arin could read it in the lines of his body, the way he kept flicking his eyes away to press another kiss to Arin's neck, but he was simmering with excitement too. 

“I know,” Dan said. “But it feels like we're more on the same page than ever before. It just keeps getting better. And it got me thinking – well – I wanted to do something for you. With you.”

The way he said it kindled a fire somewhere deep in Arin's groin. 

“What is it?” Arin said stupidly, because all of his blood was rushing south, his mind full of images of Dan on his knees, Dan's hair clutched in his fists, the slick warm heat of his mouth.

Dan's hand found Arin's thigh and squeezed. “Um, there's something that I've kind of wanted to try. I never thought I'd ever want to do it – but you, you're so gentle and sweet and you make me feel things I've never felt before...and now that I'm feeling better, and it's been so long since we, you know, it's all I've been thinking about.”

Arin might have clued in if he wasn't so focused on Dan's touch. “I'll do anything,” he said, and meant it.

“I did a bit of research,” Dan said. “Because I don't really know anything about it. But I tried, by myself, and maybe before you came over I, um, prepared...”

Something was dawning on him. Arin's heart raced harder. 

“What do you want me to do to you?” Arin asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew. He wanted Dan to say it.

He saw Dan's throat work as he swallowed. He met Arin's eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Dan said. His voice wavered, but he kept the eye contact, and there was nothing unsure about the heat Arin saw in those heavy lidded eyes. 

The way he'd phrased it earlier - _I want to do something for you – with you_ came back to Arin with a roar. He knew how much trust it took for Dan to say that. He knew how much trust it took for Dan to want that. 

After the beat of silence, some of Dan's confidence ebbed. “Do you want to?” he asked hesitantly. “It's okay if you don't.”

Arin groaned. “Fuck, yes, I want that,” he said hoarsely. “Want you so fucking much, you don't even know.”

Dan went even pinker than before. 

“You sure this isn't like a gratitude thing?” Arin asked, catching his gaze. “This isn't just like, you feel like you want to do me a favour? Reward me for finally getting off my ass and going to therapy like I should have all along?”

Dan shook his head. “It's not exactly a new idea,” he confessed. “More like...the way you take care of me kind of reminded me how gentle you are, and how there's no way it would hurt with you. Not that I ever thought you _wouldn't_ be gentle. It just...reminded me all over again and made me start thinking about it as something that could actually happen.”

“I would never hurt you,” Arin promised, dizzy at the idea of Dan thinking about it, fantasizing about it, nervous and trusting. “Never.”

“Have you thought about it before?”

Arin had. He'd thought about Dan fucking him too – he'd been pretty sure that would happen first, if they ever decided to try this – but he couldn't deny that the thought of being the first person to ever have Dan in that way was fucking intoxicating. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah, I've thought about it. A lot. I – fuck, I came in my underwear in my sleep dreaming about it, like a fuckin' teenager.”

“Yeah?” Dan liked hearing that, Arin could tell. 

“Fuck yeah. Christ, Dan, do you have any fuckin' idea what you do to me? The noises you make when I touch you, how sensitive you are all over, the way you like it when I'm on top of you – and shit, that one morning when I woke up hard and I was spooning you and you were rubbing your little ass against me, jesus.”

Dan sat up a little straighter, his chin lifting, a little spark lighting in his eyes. “You liked that, huh?”

“You know I did. You love being a fuckin' cocktease.” Arin tugged Dan closer. “I think you know exactly what you were doing to me.”

A tinge of pink flushed across Dan's cheeks. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I was thinking about it, too.”

Arin groaned. “Fuck,” he said. “And you – you said you got yourself ready?”

Dan's flush darkened. “I, um, read some guides. Watched some stuff. I tried, you know, with my fingers, just getting myself used to being touched there.”

“Jesus, Danny.” Arin groaned again. Dan's odd mix of confidence and shyness was a complete oxymoron, a wonderful mystery, and it turned Arin on like crazy. 

“So you want to?” Dan leaned forward. “Like right now?”

“Are you kidding me?” Arin said incredulously. “Like I could ever say no to you.”

“So you want to come upstairs with me?”

“Dan,” Arin said levelly. “I'll follow you literally anywhere. I'll fuck you right here if you want me to.”

“You could bend me over the couch,” Dan said with a little laugh. “But all the stuff we need is upstairs, and my bed is big and comfy.”

“Oh my god.”

Dan loved to see Arin get flustered. “Come on,” he said, laughing again. He wriggled off the couch and bounced to his feet. He grabbed Arin's hand. “Come deflower me already.”

“Oh my _god_.” Arin seemed to have temporarily lost the power of speech. Dan squeezed Arin's hand and led the way. Arin stumbled up the familiar wooden stairs, feeling like his skin was buzzing, his cock heavy between his legs, pressing up against his zipper.

As soon as they were both in the master bedroom, Arin stopped, a little lost. He was having a hard time believing this was real. He often felt that way, even though he'd been with Dan for months now. It just seemed too good to be true. His eyes moved to the nightstand, where Dan had laid out a bottle of lube and a stack of washcloths. The covers on the bed had been thrown back, the sheets rumpled. Arin could picture Dan laid bare, sprawled across all that white and cream, his curls spilling over the pillow and his hand between his legs, exploring...

“Just gonna stand there?” Dan teased him, and Arin's gaze snapped back to him. Once he knew he had Arin's attention, Dan peeled his tight T-shirt over his head and flung it aside. 

“I don't get to unwrap my own gift?” Arin moved closer and fit his hands around Dan's hips.

Dan giggled. “You were taking too long.”

“You're impatient.”

“Well, yeah. It's only been about six weeks since I've gotten laid.”

“Oh, no,” Arin drawled. “A whole _six weeks_.”

“It's a long time,” Dan protested, grinning. He squirmed, and Arin hooked his fingers through Dan's belt loops to keep him still. 

“Well, you're just going to have to learn how to be patient, aren't you?” Arin murmured, leaning in to kiss Dan's neck. “Because I'm going to take my sweet time with you.”

He could feel it when Dan swallowed. “Yeah?” he breathed, and Arin knew it was an invitation to go on.

Arin let his fingers trail up Dan's bare stomach to his chest, his thumbs brushing over Dan's nipples. Dan gasped and Arin smiled. 

“So easy,” Arin said against Dan's warm throat, and he rubbed Dan's nipples in little circles.

“A-Arin,” Dan gasped. “Not fair.”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Dan's fingers touched Arin's chest, sliding down the gap where his shirt had come unbuttoned, and he fumbled with the next button down. It took him a while – Arin was doing his best to distract him, and Dan was alternating between making those sweet little gasps and cursing the tiny buttons - “Harder than taking off a bra,” he grumbled, “and my fuckin' thumbs weren't made for this” and Arin said, “You're gonna have to work if you wanna see my sweet tits” and Dan dissolved into laughter. As soon as he got to the last button he practically ripped the shirt off of Arin's body, and then they were surging forward, pressing their bare chests together and kissing until Arin could barely breathe.

Somehow they were moving, and Arin didn't even realize it until he felt the edge of the bed up against his legs. He let Dan push him backward and onto the mattress, and this time he was deft and quick at getting Arin's pants open and down. 

“Jesus,” Arin said, kicking the bunched fabric off his feet. He used his hands to push himself further on the bed to give Dan room to climb on too. “You're eager.”

“I've been waiting a long time, alright?” Dan crawled up on top of Arin, knees bracketed around his waist. Arin hadn't even noticed that he'd shed his jeans off too. He was wearing faded black boxer briefs, and the outline of his dick was straining against the fabric. 

Arin teased the head with his thumb and felt the wetness seep through the cotton. Dan's flat stomach tensed and he stuttered out a moan. He loved the way Dan fell apart at the slightest touch, like he had twice the nerve endings as anyone else. 

“Gonna take these off for me?” Arin asked, dipping his fingers into the waistband of Dan's underwear. He couldn't yank them down, not with Dan kneeling on him like this.

“Thought you wanted to take it slow.”

Arin was ready with a comeback, but he wasn't ready for Dan to shuffle himself back, settling his weight just over Arin's hips. They both moved at the same time, angling Arin's dick up into the cleft of Dan's ass.

“Oh fuck.” Arin's hips arched. There were only two thin layers of fabric separating them. The friction was barely there, but the faint imitation of the act was enough to drive him mad.

“Yeah?” Dan whispered huskily, sitting back and rocking slightly. 

“God yes, Dan, please – ”

“Please what?” 

“I didn't think you were going to try and make me beg,” Arin tried weakly.

“Try?” Dan arched his back and fluffed up his hair, shaking it back away from his eyes. He was all Danny Sexbang confidence, with that big grin Arin loved so much, that earnest desire to put on a show. And it wasn't just a display of ego, it was never ego with Dan – it was an eagerness to please his audience, the same energy that drove his career. But it wasn't directed at an audience. It was for _Arin_ , all for him, and that felt like a fucking fire being lit inside him. 

“I think you just want me to take charge here,” Arin said back, challenging. 

“Oh yeah?” Dan laughed, the sound pure and silvery like sunshine. “Is that what you think?”

“I know you too well.”

“Maybe, but I'm full of surprises.”

“I'd rather get you full of something else.”

He expected Dan to groan at that awful line and waited for the smile, maybe a splutter. But instead Dan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. 

“Oh yeah?” he practically purred, and reached behind him to guide Arin's cock more firmly against him, and god, if they were naked, this would be it, Dan would just have to lean back and lower himself and Arin could thrust up – 

Arin got a split second to process the visuals that conjured before he broke. He couldn't stand it any longer. The teasing was just too much.

“Fuck,” he said out loud, and he grabbed Dan by the hips. He weighed nothing; it was easy to flip him over onto his back and pin him there, and now it was easy to yank at his briefs and pull them off his narrow hips. Dan's cock sprung free, hard and flushed pink, and it looked so good that Arin had to bend down and get up close and personal with it. He kissed the tip, held Dan's hips against the bed when he thrust up for more, and waited until Dan said “Arin, _please_ ” in a suitably broken little voice before he took it in.

“Oh, oh fuck yes.” Dan's fingers clutched his hair. “Fuck, your _mouth._ ”

He was tugging at Arin's hair, and for a while Arin indulged him, letting Dan push and pull him as he wished. Arin let the rhythm of it settle him, taking his mind off of his own cock and focusing on the heaviness on his tongue, the sound of Dan moaning softly with every exhale. 

It was only when Dan started pushing his hips up that Arin pulled off, not wanting to get him too excited just yet. Dan whined, but cut himself off as Arin nuzzled his way down, mouthing at Dan's balls. The scent of sex was sharp in his nose, Dan's little moans like music in his ears, and _god_ he wanted to taste him, to eat him out, plunge his tongue inside that pink hole and then replace it with his fingers, his cock – 

It was probably polite to ask first. Arin had every intention of it. 

But then Dan nudged his thighs further open. His breath stuttered, and he went quiet. Slowly, he bent his knees, tucking his heels as close as he could to his thighs, giving Arin room.

Arin could take a hint. 

He pushed at the back of Dan's thigh until Dan understood and grabbed his own knee. The angle tilted his hips back enough for Arin to see his hole.

“Oh my God, are you – ”

“Yeah,” Arin said in a rush, “if you want it – ”

“I haven't – nobody's ever – okay, yes, do it, oh _fuck_!” Dan's voice rose about three octaves as Arin pressed the flat of his tongue against his opening.

Something primal gripped him as he felt Dan's hole twitch against his tongue, felt his thighs start to shake. It was a new level of intimacy, a new level of trust. And Dan was inviting it, _asking_ for it, holding himself open for Arin to explore. That was almost better than the act itself. Arin lost track of time, forgot about the end game as he listened to Dan's moans go from surprise, to cautious pleasure, and then to desperate eager cries. 

The first time Arin tried to press his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, Dan went fully nonverbal. And then, like pressure being built up and released, he half-shouted, “Arin, oh my God.”

He couldn't get it in. His tongue wasn't strong enough. But Dan seemed to like the attempt. Arin turned his face to the side to breathe, his beard scraping Dan's inner thigh, and Dan shivered.

“Arin,” he gasped. “Arin. Arin, hey – ”

It took Arin a second to register the sounds as words. Dan was trying to get his attention. He kissed Dan's thigh and said raggedly, “Yeah? Too much?”

“Not enough.” Dan's hand scrabbled at his side. “I want – let me get – ”

Arin angled himself away so Dan could let go of his own knee for a moment, reaching for something. And then he was pressing a bottle into Arin's hand, silently, imploringly, and Arin understood.

He pushed himself up on his knees. Dan was looking down at him, still holding his leg up, blushing faintly at his exposed position. Arin popped the cap of the lube open and poured a small puddle onto his right hand, coating two fingers. For good measure he poured more between Dan's thighs, letting it drip over his hole and down his cleft. Dan's chest rose and fell, his breath coming faster, and Arin stroked his cock slowly until Dan's eyes half-closed in pleasure and the tension left him.

“Good,” Arin soothed. “That's good, stay relaxed.”

“Yeah.” Dan took a deep breath. “I trust you, Arin.”

That was a lot of pressure. Arin had to step up. Dan was trusting him with this. Dan was excited but unsure, totally new to this, for years unwilling to even try the act he wanted Arin to perform. It was up to Arin to guide him, and Arin didn't take the task lightly.

He touched the tip of his finger to Dan's hole, stroking it like he did with his tongue, concentrating on the way Dan's body responded. Dan twitched and tightened at first, but then quickly relaxed again.

“Good boy,” Arin murmured, letting his voice dip into its deepest timbre. Dan shivered at that, and his cock twitched. Arin applied the gentlest pressure, and Dan's body let him in, tight and hot around his finger. “You're doing so good.”

He watched Dan's face, waiting for a sign to keep going. There was a moment of surprise, a second of uncertainty, and Arin knew exactly what he was feeling. It was weird the first time. There was no escaping that. Dan said he tried it himself, and that was strange the first time too, but it didn't compare to having someone else do it. Dan's brow creased and then smoothed, and his eyes opened. He looked at Arin.

“I'm okay,” he assured him. “Just – whoa.”

“It's weird at first, right?”

“A little.” Dan laughed breathlessly. “It's weird but it's good, I think.”

“You think?” Arin pushed deeper, feeling the softness inside, thinking about the way his passage would feel, wrapped snugly around his cock. 

“ _Oh_ \- oh, no, okay, it's – ” Dan choked on a breath. “It's, it's good, keep going.”

Arin did, moving in and out, laser-focused on Dan's reactions. He was apparently just as sensitive as he was everywhere else. His erection had flagged a little at the start, but it was stiffening again now, and when Dan reached down to touch himself with those long fine-boned fingers, Arin nudged his middle finger alongside the first. 

They both moaned as Arin's two fingers pushed inside. Dan's head fell back, giving Arin a view of his lovely sharp jaw, slack with pleasure. His moans pitched higher and Arin increased the pace, letting himself curve his fingers and run the pads of his fingertips along the soft wall, searching – 

Dan's body bucked when Arin found it. “What was _that?_ ” 

“That,” Arin said smugly, “is your prostate.”

“What the,” Dan gasped. “That's, does it always feel like – oh my God! Why didn't you tell me!”

Arin had to laugh at his incredulous tone. “I've been telling you like, the whole time I've known you.”

“Do it again,” Dan demanded.

There could be a lot of fun in teasing him, but Arin was just as fucking eager, so he did. Dan's back bowed off the bed, his hole squeezing around Arin's fingers as they fucked into him.

When Dan started to arch into it, pushing down against Arin's hand, Arin had to grab the base of his dick to stop himself from exploding right there on the spot.

“Please.” Dan's voice hitched when Arin stopped moving. “Please, Ar'.”

He couldn't resist the opportunity to gloat. “Please, huh?” he mocked gently, reaching up to tweak Dan's nipple until he jerked and gasped. “I thought you were supposed to make _me_ beg for it.”

“I don't even care - _oh_ , that's cheating.” Dan's hand flailed and caught Arin's shoulder, squeezing as Arin crooked his fingers again. “If you keep doing that I think I'm going to cum.”

“You better not.” Arin slid his fingers in and out, turning them, scissoring them open. Dan was tight, but he was relaxed, letting Arin in without hesitation. “Not yet. I want to see you cum with my cock inside you.”

“I – ” Dan gulped air. “I want that. I want you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Dan breathed, squirming. His face was pink. “Arin.”

“I want to hear you say it.” 

Dan groaned. “Okay, fuck.” He lifted his head up, blinking away the dazed look in his eyes. He caught Arin's gaze and held it. “I want you to fuck me, Arin.”

He was blushing, half sex god and half innocent angel, everything that drove Arin insane. The power shifted, and Dan seemed to feel it, lighting up when he saw Arin's reaction.

“Well,” Arin said weakly, “if you insist.” 

The lube was still open, waiting there on the bed. Arin fumbled it with his slippery hands, but managed to get a good amount out into his palm. Dan watched him stroke it over his cock.

“Should we do it like this?” Dan asked shyly. He was biting his lower lip. “With me on my back?”

He looked so beautiful, his soft eyes trusting and excited, that Arin couldn't picture it any other way. “Yeah. Yeah, if that's how you want it.”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed. “Come on, Arin, want you in me.”

“Jesus.” Arin bent to kiss him, and Dan's mouth opened up, hungry and passionate and eager. He raised his knees, squeezing them against Arin's sides, and Arin shuffled up to take his place, hips against the backs of Dan's thighs. He hiked Dan's legs onto his shoulders, bending him back, and his slick cock brushed up against Dan's entrance. 

The two of them moaned as one. Arin looked into Dan's eyes and blindly guided himself with his hand, aligning until it was there, nudging at Dan's waiting hole.

“Slow,” Dan whispered as Arin pressed forward. “Slow, yeah, just like that – oh, fuck.”

There was no resistance. Arin slid inside Dan's tight heat for the first time, and it was as good as it had ever been every time he'd pictured this – it was better. Dan's hands settled on Arin's biceps, sliding up to squeeze his shoulders. He looked wild, wide-eyed and desperate.

“Does it hurt?” Arin asked, because he had to know, and Dan shook his head.

“S'good,” he breathed. “So good. You're so big. What do I feel like?”

“Fucking _incredible_ ,” Arin said, shaking with the effort of keeping still. “So tight. Better than I ever imagined.” 

“Yeah?” Dan squeezed Arin's arms and shifted his hips, like he was acclimating to the feeling of Arin inside of him. 

“Way better. And you look so fuckin' gorgeous, you don't even know.”

The way Dan lit up made Arin's cock twitch in him. Dan gasped a little, like he felt it, and he was so goddamn beautiful that Arin could get off just by looking at him, Christ. 

Dan said, almost shyly, “You can, um. You can move, if you want.”

“Yeah? Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Dan nodded. “Come on,” he murmured. “Want to feel it.”

He moaned when Arin canted his hips and started to slide in and out. He kept his thrusts shallow and steady, willing himself not to cum too soon. The intimacy of being pressed so close to Dan, the trust it took for Dan to let him do this, was almost as good as the feeling of his velvety, snug passage wrapped around his cock. 

Dan's chest heaved as he breathed, short and shallow. “Yes,” he moaned, low and sweet. “Yes, Arin, god it's so _much_. Is that – is that all of you?”

“About halfway.” 

Dan's eyes widened even more. “That's only halfway?”

It was really hard not to grin proudly. “Yeah. It's okay if that's all you want to take. You still feel good just like this.”

“No. Keep going.” Dan flexed his legs, drawing Arin in. “You can keep going. I want to feel all of you.”

Arin gave him what he wanted, sweating with the effort of sliding in slow, giving Dan time to adjust to every inch. Dan's mouth opened, a silent cry, and then when Arin's balls pressed against him he shuddered and said, “Oh my fucking god, Arin.”

“Holy shit,” was Arin's brilliant contribution. “Is it okay? Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Dan laughed disbelievingly. They looked at each other, their eyes reflecting what they both were thinking. They were so close, their bodies joined in the most intimate way, overwhelmed with the sensation and the feeling of sharing it together.

“I love you,” Arin told him, kissing that slack mouth. “You look so hot, you don't even know.”

“Love you too,” Dan said breathlessly. “Now fuck me already before I explode.”

Arin took a breath, eased himself back a few inches, and gave a cautious deep trust. Dan's short nails dug into his skin and he choked out, “Yes, like that, again.”

Arin did, groaning low in his throat. Again, a little harder, a little faster. Dan's head lolled back against the pillow, relaxing into it, giving up control.

“Arin,” Dan moaned, as sweet as music. He kept trying to keep his eyes focused on Arin's face. “Harder, come on, I can take it.”

Dan was always loud in bed. Arin could have predicted that he'd be loud for this too. As soon as Arin settled into a rhythm, his quiet moans ramped up to sweet little cries, curses mixed with Arin's name. Arin broke a sweat and Dan's legs started to slip off his shoulders, but that was okay – Arin grabbed Dan's ankles himself and pushed them toward the headboard. The angle opened him up, letting Arin drive deeper, and on his second thrust Dan's body spasmed and he let out a short scream.

“No, god, don't stop, please Arin don't stop fucking me,” he half shouted when Arin slowed. “Don't you dare stop.”

“Right there, huh?” Arin pulled out and thrust again, keeping the angle steady. “You like that?”

“Yes, fuck, give it to me.” Dan almost sobbed when Arin did it again, just brushing the edge of rough, and his cock twitched and jumped against his stomach. Dan reached down, stroking himself with a shaking clumsy hand, and Arin let go, fucking him until their moans mingled into music.

Dan fell to pieces beneath him, his eyes glazing over as he stared up at Arin like he'd never seen him before, wondrous and overwhelmed. Arin stared back, searing the moment into his memory, grunting with the strain of holding out, waiting for Dan to get there first.

“Come on, Danny,” he gasped out, sweat dripping down his face. “Come on, need you to come for me, I'm not going to last.”

Dan whimpered and nodded. His hand sped up, his pace erratic. Arin tried to match it, kept the pressure steady, his cock brushing over Dan's spot in just the right way. Just when he thought he couldn't keep it up Dan squeezed around him and cried out sharply, and Arin looked down just in time to see his cock spasm and spurt, painting stripes across his stomach and chest.

Arin slowed, taking care to be gentle, ready to ease out. But Dan said, “No, don't, want to feel you come in me” and that sentence alone pushed him over the edge. His groan drowned out Dan's voice as his climax hit him hard, sending him spinning, shaking apart at the edges as he spilled into Dan, and he closed his eyes and let himself fall into the bliss. 

At some point he let go of Dan's ankles and fell forward, on top of him, his face pressed to Dan's neck and their bodies still joined. He could feel Dan's heart beating strong and steady under the skin. Dan's hands were in his hair, holding him close. He was talking but the words were meaningless, little bits of music like the lyrics to his heart.

It took a while for Arin to gather his wits again. When he did, his sweat was cooling sticky on his skin, and Dan's eyes were sleepy and hooded.

“God,” Arin said thickly, easing his soft cock out of Dan's ass. He was vaguely worried that his weight was crushing him, but he couldn't move. “Oh my god.”

Dan laughed and stroked his hair. “I think I broke you. You okay, my big cat?”

“That was – you were – holy fuck.”

“I know,” Dan agreed like Arin's rambling made sense. “I know.”

He was grinning, and Arin was grinning back, the two of them in perfect sync and understanding, excited about this new shared experience. Dan hugged him and tilted his face up for a kiss, apparently not caring that Arin was covered in sweat. 

“If it's not that good every time you fuck me, I want a refund,” Dan said when he caught his breath. “Holy shit.”

Just knowing that this was going to happen again was enough to scramble Arin's brains all over again. “How does a store credit sound?” 

Arin didn't even know what that _meant_ , but it made Dan laugh, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“Sounds good to me.”

They laid there, soaking in each other's company like sunshine. Arin thought again of all that could happen and all they had been through together. He remembered the way the horizons seemed to close in all around him since the day of the accident. He still couldn't see around the next bend in the road, but nobody could. Fearing the worst wouldn't stop it from happening, but it would make him miss a lot of the good things along the way – like this – like the simple pleasure of perfect understanding and connection without words – like the hundreds of memories they'd shared and the adventures yet to come.

They would enjoy the ride, together.

Dan seemed to know what he was thinking. He linked his fingers with Arin's and said, “For better or worse,” he quoted.

“What, are you proposing?” Arin squeezed his hand.

“Bigamy is illegal,” Dan demured, squeezing back.

“Only if you get caught.”

“We're practically married anyway.” Dan smiled. “I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to tie me down.”

“Don't give me ideas.”

“Why not?” Dan snuggled back into the sheets, yawning. “We still have the whole weekend.”

Arin let his imagination soar as he drew Dan into his arms, where he belonged.


End file.
